Love for an Older Woman

'For your revival,' she said, stepping out of the bed in her full nakedness to fetch a tall glass of cold fruit juice.

We lay there while she began to tell me more about her life that not only intrigued me but also aroused my passion for this woman.

When it came to postprandial coitus, Joan and I were as eager as we'd been before our first fuck. Only this time I insisted on lubricating her with my tongue. I lapped the vulva from top to bottom, penetrated her with it, sucked her clitoris and finally inserted a finger to reach her G-spot, continuing to tongue-massage her clitoris as I did so. She put both hands on my head and the sounds that came from her were all encouraging. She arched her back, urging me to put in more fingers. I rubbed her vagina, feeling its pulsing muscles open and close. Then she almost shouted: 'Fuck me, Archibald! Just fuck me, please, please.' So I fucked her and we both took our time. I stayed on top, pushing pillows under her to give me a stronger position to drive my cock into her. She climaxed before I did and once I had fired my load, she gripped my buttocks, digging her nails into the soft flesh and bit my neck and shoulder so hard it left marks.

For a woman of her age, Joan was remarkably active and alert in bed. She was quick to seize an opportunity, stimulating my prostate first on the perineum and then, once she had won my confidence, through the backdoor and onto the prostate itself enhancing my orgasm. She was flexible too, lifting both her legs over my shoulders to that I could reach further into her vagina. Her sighing and soft moaning and loud gasping signalled that her orgasms were not faked.

I lost count of the number of times we made love in her bed that day, falling asleep with her in my arms, utterly sated from a delicious exhaustion. When I awoke, she was cradling my penis in her hands, licking the head and stroking the shaft, bringing it to full mast. And very soon our lovemaking resumed.

Except for drinks and food breaks, all provided by the faithful manservant, we spent almost 24 hours in Joan's bed. Then we bathed together in her huge tub. I lay in the warm water, watching Joan get out and begin to towel off. She turned her back to me and I was suddenly aroused again at the sight of her pussy peeping between her legs. So I raised myself from the bath, clasped my arms around her as she held onto the basin to support herself and fucked her one last time before we dressed.

Before I left Joan the morning after my arrival, she brought me down to reality. She wanted me to meet her husband, who was due to return later that day. I can tell you that it drained all my passion as if I'd stood under a cold shower. But I agreed, so Joan set up a meeting for the following day once we had laid our plan.

'Robber Rod' was all I had expected: he had the build and demeanour of a bully. But he was also 80 years old, so I decided not to be afraid of him. We met at a remote table in his favourite restaurant and he was there before me, a head waiter fawning over him. The waiter had obviously been briefed, so he pulled out a chair when I arrived. 'Robber' did not greet me in the conventional manner. That is, he did not offer a handshake or any gesture other than hostility. 'Fuck you,' I thought. 'I can take you any time.' Once I'd settled in, he got straight to the point.

'My wife says you have a proposal for us.'

'Depends,' I said, deliberately vague.

'What do you mean, "depends". She said you made her an offer.'

'Let me be very clear what we discussed,' I said. 'You need to hear the full story. And in its right context.'

'Indulge me.' Robber Rod believed he was in charge and I was about to disabuse him.

'I was introduced to your wife by Ellen Ramine, someone with whom you are apparently also acquainted.'

'Correct.'

'I am a client of Ellen's, just as you and your wife are.'

'So what of it?'

'Be patient, Mr Morton. I am just clarifying a picture that perhaps does not need it.'

'Get to the point. Your proposal?'

'My wife and I,' I said, 'are sexual adventurers. We enjoy each other's company, we are compatible in the bedroom, but we are also explorers of the, let's say, sensual side of life. We had approached Ellen, who had helped us often in the past, to expand our area of exploration.'

'I see,' said Robber Rod.

'Ellen suggested to your wife that we, that is my wife and I, would be suitable companions for the two of you in any sensual endeavour you might have in mind.'

'And your wife agrees?'

'My wife, Mr Morton, is the main instigator. Her current obsession is with older men, very old men. Someone like yourself. She might be better explaining this obsession than me, which was why Ellen suggested we all get together. Your wife sounded enthusiastic, I might add.'

'But she sent you. Why didn't she raise it herself?'

'Perhaps she thought you wouldn't believe a story about a very attractive 28-year-old woman being eager to have sex with you.'

'Well,' hurrumphed Robber Rod, 'I'm not without my, er, needs and desires. And there's little wrong with my testosterone or libido.'

Like hell, I thought. Joan said it took drugs and little short of industrial scaffolding to keep him up for the act.

'Then we should arrange a meeting between the four of us,' I said. 'If none of us has any objections, we can it to the next logical step.'

Robber Rod reached out to shake my hand.

'It's a deal. I will leave it to you and Joan to arrange the, er, assignation.'

'Leave it to us,' I said, and promptly left.

When I next met Joan, she had my 'wife' with her. Dalia was stunningly attractive, tall with olive skin and legs that went up like stairs. She had firm breasts and powerful arms. When she shook my hand, it felt like a man's. She had long dark hair that blew in the wind, wore a short skirt that showed a tight ass and huge lips. She was also a sergeant in the army's special forces reserves and knew how to kill with her beautiful bare hands, the left one of which carried a wedding ring. She was perfect and I wanted to get to know her better. Joan suggested the three of us get together that evening at a hotel suite she had hired, to 'get acquainted'. Dalia seemed most agreeable. She even began to act like the devoted wife, hooking an arm into mine as we walked and kissing me lightly before driving off in an expensive sportscar. She also turned a few heads before departing.

'One of Ellen's?' I asked.

'Only her most expensive, darling.'

When Joan and I parted, the kiss was more passionate.

When we met again, in a lavish suite with champagne and food laid on, Joan was all business. She was like a choreographer and drill sergeant in one.

'Get those clothes off, Archibald, and put that robe on,' she ordered.

Dalia had been sent to change in another room and when she appeared again she was wearing a most seductive piece of black lingerie, a satin-and-lace bodysuit. Her thick hair hung down past her shoulders. She knew we were both impressed. Dalia ran her hands down the front, over her body, then turned sideways to admire herself in a huge mirror to see her profile, especially how her breasts protruded and she lifted them so that they almost poured out from the flimsy silk costume. She was beautifully curved and contoured. Her hair was odorous and rich, and I was tempted to rush and embrace her.

'Easy there, cowboy,' Joan whispered. 'Stick to the script.'

The script was under Joan's direction and began in the most innocent manner -- considering how Dalia and I were dressed -- with gentle clinking of champagne flutes and only the most chaste touching of hands and arms. Joan was formally dressed, so I asked her:

'Aren't you going to join in?'

'Not just yet, darling,' she said. 'I first need to be sure you will be ready for tomorrow night.'

Even with Joan, my lover, in the room, I was eager to begin making love to Dalia. Joan smiled at the two of us.

'Dalia,' she said. 'You must remember that Rod will be in a hurry. You have to slow him down, draw it out, make it last until you exhaust him utterly.'

Exhaust him, I thought. She would bloody kill him.

Once briefed, Joan sat back with a drink in hand and gave us the go-ahead. She might have shouted 'lights, action, camera' through a megaphone. I took my cue, brushing my fingers against Dalia's cheek feeling her glistening skin, which shone like satin and smooth to the touch. We kissed, tentatively at first then deeper, tongues meeting and attempting to swallow the other. I gently pushed off the straps of her body suit and let her breasts fall free. Dalia's nipples were already hard and pouting, so I kissed them, cradled them, suckled them and she murmured little sounds while she nibbled at my ears. I had never seen breasts as perfect as hers.

I pushed her onto the bed, let the robe fall from me and began brushing her breasts with my penis. She offered her mouth, so I let her take my cock and she licked the head and then took the full shaft. I let her play with it for a while, then slowly withdrew and began to strip the satin body stocking off her. I caressed her feet with my tongue, sucking a big toe, moving up past her calves, her knees, her thighs. She appeared to enjoy my intentions, but I surprised her, rolling her over and beginning the manoeuvre again, running my tongue along her spine to her neck, lifting her hair, kissing her neck, her ears and then down again. She spread her legs slightly, so I rimmed her anus with my tongue.

'You want to fuck me in the butt?' said Dalia.

'Perhaps,' I said, 'but first your pussy.'

'You can fuck me in the butt if you like,' she said but I had no intention of that. Besides I was being watched by Joan, who had pushed her dress up to her thighs and was beginning to stimulate herself through her panties. I indicated to her to join us, but she just shook her head and motioned for me to carry on.

I lingered over her bare shoulders, inhaling the faint and marvellous odour that came from her body. She reached behind herself with one hand to grab my cock. She wanted me to mount her, but Joan intervened.

'Slowly darling. Slowly,' said Joan. 'Remember the plan. We don't want to rush things, no matter how randy we feel.'

Dalia and I lay face to face, kissing deeply. I reached down between her legs to feel her vagina properly. It was more than moist, it was soaked with her vaginal fluids. My fingers glided into her, first one, then another and then a third. She squirmed and arched her back. My thumb found her clitoris and the hand worked in harmony as Dalia urged me on.

'God, yes, Archie. Yes, yes, yes.' I was sure she had climaxed, so I waited until she'd settled then went down on her with my mouth, my tongue find her clitoris and sucking on it.

As our lovemaking became more vigorous, Dalia's hair became more dishevelled. After an hour we were both bathed in sweat. Her breasts remained taut, her lips hot and her clitoris had begun to pulsate. My mouth never ceased kissing every part of her body. I touched her with the tip of my cock, rubbing it between her breasts, putting it in her mouth to suck. She wanted to kiss and fondle it.

My mouth wanted to swallow her, to bring her to some new unknown pleasures. I bit into her flesh with and the sensation made her a quiver with pleasure. Then our mouths melted into each other, seeking each other's tongues. Joan watched us and I caught a glimpse of her, pleasuring herself. I wanted to go to her, to fuck her properly, but Dalia held onto me. While Joan was distracted with her own orgasms, Dalia offered herself, opening her vulva with her long fingers, as if she could no longer wait. She threw herself on top of me so that she could gyrate around my erect penis, her own erotic dance of pleasure that made her cry out. At the same time a flash of ecstasy tore through my body and I exclaimed with pleasure.

Joan regained her equilibrium and began to join us, kissing Dalia then me. She began to take off her clothes and I seized a breast here, a leg there. I had lost my erection but not my desire. Dalia got up from the bed, having satisfied her lust and let Joan go to work on me. I watched Dalia walk to the drinks tray, her long, beautiful body with her tight derriere. She deliberately bent over the tray to pour drinks and after my thirst was quenched I began to feel a stirring return to my cock.

I was slow in coming a second time. I was inside Joan, but she pushed me off her and drew Dalia back into my embrace. Once my vigour returned, I took her from behind while Joan positioned herself to be licked by Dalia. We all seemed to orgasm at the same time.

Our menage must have lasted about three hours when we fell into various forms of sleep. On awakening Joan declared herself happy with the practice run for the following night when Dalia and I would join Joan and Robber Rod in their penthouse apartment.

Dalia wore a flimsy silk evening gown for the occasion. It left her shoulders bare and I could feel her pointed breasts throbbing and swelling against my hand. Robber Rod would find her irresistible. Not only irresistible, he could hardly contain himself. Joan brought us all together with some ground rules: we would go into different rooms; Joan and I would go upstairs, leaving Robber Rod and Dalia in the main bedroom. Dalia played her role to perfection, indulging Robber Rod's every gesture and even sliding her hand across his thigh to take hold of his cock. We had been there less than half an hour when Dalia declared that she was 'as randy as two cats'. Joan and I left them to it and spent an hour with a slow rhythmic round of fucking. I had missed her but I tried to take my time. It didn't help; I came within minutes and then used my fingers to bring her to orgasm. We lay in one another's arms until we'd both recovered, then I took her from behind and we were both able to delay our orgasms for a good ten minutes.

It was close to midnight when there was a knock on our door. Joan threw on a robe and found her manservant in a state of anxiety. 'Master Rod,' he said, frantically. 'You must come now.'

Joan and I both went hurried downstairs to find a distraught Dalia in tears and Robber Rod, his face quite pale, lying naked on the bed, his penis flaccid. I tried to find his pulse but there was none. I covered the body while Joan called the couple's doctor, who arrived within half-an-hour, two paramedics in tow. It was too late, however. Robber Rod was declared dead at the scene, the doctor describing cause of death as 'heart attack brought on my too vigorous activity'.

'You knew he had a dickey heart, Joan,' the doctor said. 'So why did you let him do this?'

'Because he enjoyed it,' she said matter of factly.

'And you were with him?' the doctor turned to Dalia. She just nodded her head as she wrapped Robber Rod's huge white robe tightlyl around her.

'There are traces of spermatozoa on the deceased's penis,' said the doctor.

'So?' said Joan. 'They weren't discussing the stock market, you know.'

'I say this,' said the doctor, 'because Rod died a happy man.'

That, in a less dramatic manner, was what the pathologist found too. No one was to blame for the death of Roderick Morton.

I calmed Dalia while Joan went about the business quite dispassionately making arrangements. Neither Dalia nor I went to the funeral and when I tried to see Joan afterwards, she claimed she was too busy with the aftermath of events and dealing with Robber Rod's associates.

Three days after they had cremated Robber Rod, Joan let me back in. She looked more beautiful than I had remembered in spite of the traumatic events of the past few days. I tried to kiss her, but she turned away.

'Shall I give you more time?' I asked.

Joan smiled at me, stroked my cheek and said: 'You were wonderful Archibald. I loved our lovemaking, but you must now grow up. It's over darling.'

It felt like a vital part of my life had ended. I didn't feel any great pang of grief, regret or even sadness. Just a sort of relief. Sex with Joan had been great while it lasted, but in my romp with Dalia, I knew that I was over my obsession with old women. It was time to start courting in my own age group. We parted as friends, with gentle kisses and with promises to keep in touch.

I took the lift down to the ground floor, intending to find a taxi to take me home, pour myself a stiff whisky and look back on an amazing sexual adventure. When I came out into the bright sunlight, I was momentarily blinded as I looked up and down the street for a possible cruising cab. That's when I spotted the red sportscar across the road and a sexy, long-legged, long-haired army sergeant with potent breasts leaning against it. She beckoned me to come over.

'Can I give you a lift, soldier?' she said and her smile was intoxicating.

'Only if you're going my way,' I said.

'I sure am,' said Dalia.