Reunions

He kissed her and said, "You're beautiful."

She stepped back a half-step and let her bra straps slip down her arms. Her breasts were freed. She looked at him, into his eyes, afraid of his disapproval, frightened of rejection. Instead, he lowered his head, pulled a tit into his mouth, and sucked on an areola, lifting the breast for a moment.

"Come to bed with me," he said.

She slipped by him, pulled down the sheets, and climbed in, removing her panties and discarding them on the floor. She slid to the center and beckoned him.

James stood frozen for a moment, and his face fell. "I didn't bring protection," he said. "I'm sorry."

She patted the space next to her and said, "I'm past the time for children. It's OK."

He climbed into the bed and hovered over her, looking down the length of her body, from her beautiful hair, her eyes, that luscious mouth, past the elegant collarbones, and to her breasts with their light blue veins running like rivers through those creamy mounds. She had a landing strip on her crotch, and his hard cock danced over it, dripping.

His smile was lusty, and he growled as he lowered himself to kiss her. "You are a goddess," he said. "Please, let me make you happy."

Without waiting for an answer, he slipped down her body, kissing flesh as he traversed from neck to pussy. His ass was in the air as he kneeled before her, his cock vibrating with every heartbeat. Slipping his arms behind her knees, he lifted and lowered himself, breathing in deeply her wet, musky scent.

"Oh, god," she said as he licked from the bottom of her pussy to the top, piercing the lips with his tongue and kissing the hidden place at the top where her button lay.

It was a slow progression, kissing her inner thighs, licking, kissing, sucking, nibbling on her labia, and teasing her clit. Each pass from top to bottom, side to side, brought her closer to joy, but he also wanted to ensure that she was wet and comfortable before the next steps.

James tenderly probed her pussy with a finger. Lydia would groan each time James inserted his tongue or finger into her slot.

"I want to make you cum, baby," he said. "Do you think your classmates are gossiping about you getting railed up here in your room? I think they are. I think they know that my mouth is on your cunt right now. Cum for me. Maybe they're listening at the door right now."

He slid his middle finger into her hole and began finger fucking her, gently dragging his fingertip across her G-spot, teasing and probing. Then he sucked on her clit and rolled his tongue over it, sucking hard, massaging it with his lips, pulling, licking, and growling.

She didn't cum right away, but when she did, the ballroom likely heard it. Her legs snapped around his head, and she grabbed his hair, forcing him down on her clit, like she was fucking his mouth. He continued licking and finger fucking until she roughly pushed him off.

"Too much. Oh my god," she said, panting.

Worries she was not sufficiently lubricated were unfounded. There was a puddle on the sheets, and his face was soaked. He slipped from the bed and into the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. After wiping his face, he gently cleaned her pussy, soothing her with its warmth.

He lay on the pillow next to her with a hand on her tummy and could feel the aftershocks of spasms from her orgasm. He kissed her temple.

"Thank you," she said, "for everything. For rescuing me, making me laugh, buying me drinks, and being my date for my reunion."

He moved a lock of hair from her eyes and said, "You're very welcome. I threw in an orgasm as a bonus."

She covered her face. "Oh my god," she said. Then she turned to him, "It was so good. Thank you."

Glancing down, she saw his prick, still hard, still waiting for its turn.

"Make love to me," she said. "Don't worry about lasting long. I want to feel you inside me, and I want you to cum hard, too. Please. We have all weekend, I promise. Just get on top of me, fuck me silly, and cum."

He shifted and hovered over her once more. Before he mounted her, he bent and kissed her gently, saying, "I'm holding you to that. We have all weekend. I won't be cheated."

His cock slid in easily. He slowly fucked her, her ankles riding on his ass cheeks, her arms around his neck, and their eyes locked on each other.

"It's been so long," he said.

"Me, too," she said. "Fuck me hard, James. Make me feel like a beautiful young woman again."

"You are a beautiful young woman," he said. Then he increased his pace, fucking her hard, leaning over her, his face in a grimace. Her hands were in his hair, down his back, feeling every muscle, and finally on his ass, pulling him, urging him to bottom out, pin her to the bed, and fill her with his seed.

"Oh, fuck yes!" She cried. Then she pulled his head down and whispered in his ear, "Cum in me, you fucking stud."

His orgasm was immediate. Putting all his weight on his hips, he pinned her to the bed, driving his cock into her and sending jet after jet of cum deep into her pussy. He growled, "fuck" when his balls had finally emptied.

James felt her pussy squeeze, and his cock was free. He rolled to her side and laid on his back, eyes closed, smiling.

"I don't know if I can survive a whole weekend of this," she said, half joking.

James whispered, "What a way to go."

Chapter 4: Pillow Talk

The two lay in postcoital bliss, her head on his shoulder and their eyes closed. Their orgasms left them sleepy, relaxed, and happy. After a time, Lydia spoke.

"Where's home?" She asked.

"Cambridge," he said with a sigh. "You?"

"San Fransisco," she replied with a frown.

"I've been thinking of moving to Silicon Valley," he said.

She propped herself up on an elbow and looked down askance. "Sure you were," she said in disbelief.

He opened his eyes and looked up at her. "Actually, yes," he said. "I work remotely. The company is based in Virginia, half of my team is in Europe, and the other half is scattered across North America. It doesn't matter where I live."

"You just said Silicon Valley because I said I lived in San Francisco," she said.

"No, that's not true," he replied. "Why would you think that?"

She didn't answer. After a time, James sat up and leaned against the headboard.

"I don't know what's with you," he said. "I was living in Cambridge during the pandemic, working from home, and isolated. Boston is a special kind of place: the people are rude, the roads are too narrow, and the drivers are insane, the streets are cowpaths from the seventeenth century, and half the people I run into are from Southie or Revere, and I can't understand a word they're saying. I love the place."

She sat up, and her mood lightened.

"But why San Francisco?" She said.

"I'm in the computer field," he said, "and a lot of companies are based in the Bay Area. It's also a hotbed for software start-ups. It would be a good career move for me to relocate. But the big part of this is the weather. If I move to Mountain View or Palo Alto, I could do things outside year-round. In Cambridge, I can't go for a jog in the winter without wearing six layers of clothing. I'd like to be able to see people, join a Wednesday night soccer league, play tennis, or just go for a run. I'm tired of sitting in my apartment by myself."

She looked contrite. "I guess you have thought about it," she said.

"Yeah, I had. Why do you continue second-guessing everything?" His tone was something between concerned and heated.

She laughed. "You already got me in bed. I don't know why you keep trying to butter me up."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He said.

"I'm already fucking you. You don't need to sell it," she said.

James rose from the bed and began dressing, underwear first, then socks.

"Where are you going?" Asked Lydia.

He pulled on his trousers and grabbed his shirt, shoes, and jacket before replying. "I'm leaving. If you want to apologize, I'm in room six-twelve." Lydia just stared. "Goodnight," he said, and he slipped out the door.

Chapter 5: Reassessing

At this time of night, most traffic was from the ground floor going up, so the elevator cab James took was empty. Since he was only half-dressed when he entered, he was thankful for the privacy. He managed to don his undershirt, dress shirt, and shoes before he reached his floor.

He'd retained his cufflinks and room key in his rush, and he placed both on the desk before stripping and moving to the shower. He washed the smell of sex off his body, then stood under the warm water collecting his wits.

He toweled off and found his running shorts. Changing flights at this late hour would cost a fortune and be worth every penny. Just as he was about to enter his credit card information for a middle seat he knew he'd hate, there was a knock at the door. He opened it to find Lydia there in a sweatshirt and capri pants. He said nothing.

"I'm sorry," she said. He didn't move.

"Please," she said, "can I come in?"

He moved aside so she could enter. After he closed the door, he motioned to the loveseat and sat beside her.

"This is not an excuse," she said. "I acted inexcusably, and I'm ashamed of myself."

He waited.

She sighed and continued. "I prioritized my career. I'm not sure I have regrets, but it came at a price. I'm a postmenopausal single woman with more than a few extra pounds. When the pandemic hit, I almost heard a door slam shut. I always thought there would be time to find companionship after I was financially secure, but I gave up. I miscalculated, and I've been angry and bitter since."

The expression on his face softened, but he said nothing.

"I'm sure my therapist would tell me it was easier to self-sabotage any chance of intimacy rather than take a chance on being hurt. I should know better, and I do know better, but sometimes it's just easier to give up."

He nodded but still said nothing.

"You've been honest, open with me, and made yourself vulnerable. I returned that trust with bitchiness, because I was afraid. I'm scared of being hurt again, and I'm afraid of making a fool of myself. But I've already done that this evening with the only man who's been kind to me in years. Please, will you give an old woman another chance?"

"Yes," he said. "Are you sure you want to try again? Are you ready to take chances? There's no shame in saying you're not."

"I won't lie," she said. "I almost didn't come down. I was ready to go home heartbroken rather than risk my feelings. How stupid is that?"

"It isn't stupid, Lydia, it's understandable. The pandemic took a lot out of us,' he said. "But there is no intimacy without vulnerability."

Lydia noticed his computer open on the desk. "Flights?" She asked.

He nodded. "I was about to book an early flight home when you knocked," he said.

She spoke softly. "Because of me?"

"Because the weekend didn't turn out as I'd hoped," he said.

"Are you going home early?" She asked in a whisper.

He looked at her before replying. After a few moments, he said, "What do you think I see?"

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"I'm looking at you. What do I see?" He said.

She hesitated, then said, "I'm not sure."

"I've been telling you all night. Were you not listening?"

"I listened," she said, "but I'm not sure I believed."

He shook his head. "I'm not asking you what you believe."

She looked down and rubbed her palms on the cushions of the loveseat. A minute passed.

James was about to stand when she said, "You said I was beautiful, that I had trust issues, and that you wanted to be my date for the evening." Though she did not look up, she did smile. "You said I was clever and funny." Finally, she met his gaze and said, "You said the age difference didn't matter to you."

He nodded.

"Does the age difference really not matter to you?" She asked, pleading.

He said, "If you've given up on yourself, nothing matters."

"No, please!" She said. "I need to know why it doesn't matter."

"No," he said. "Tell me why it scares you."

Tears appeared. "Because in ten years, I'll be sixty! How could a forty-year-old man be with a woman who was sixty?"

"Because he loved her?" He said, then shrugged. "Maybe you don't believe in love."

She stood and walked to the mirrored closet door, wiped tears from her eyes, pulled her hair back, and surveyed her image. "Please," she said, "tell me I'm not dreaming." Then she looked at him and said, "Tell me everything you said tonight was true, and I'll believe you, I promise."

In an even tone, he said, "Everything I've told you tonight is true. I've not lied. I've done my best to be candid and open with you. All I've asked for to this point is you to give me the same."

She walked back to the loveseat. After a deep breath, she said, "I saw you walking toward my table and thought this man was too handsome to be talking to me. Or, maybe I look so pathetic I look like an easy mark." She winced and continued. "Then you spoke, and I was put completely at ease. I was thrilled when you suggested you'd be my date. I was over the moon when we danced. And that kiss—I'll just say I got wet long before we made it to my room."

James smiled for the first time since her confession began.

"There were moments when I believed this could happen to me. You told me to accept good things when they happen, but doubt is horrible. After saying one monstrous thing, the next nasty thing was that much easier. Then, once I'd sabotaged things, I behaved badly so I could assure myself I deserved losing you. It's all so clean that way. I go home brokenhearted as the universe demanded."

James said nothing but reached for her hand and held it.

She continued. "You're handsome and funny, charming, and quick-witted. And I was floored that you thought I was intelligent, funny, and beautiful. Before COVID, I would have believed. I would have thought I hit the jackpot." She looked at him and smiled. "Maybe I have if I don't fuck it up."

He chuckled. "Maybe," he said.

"I'm here. I'll do whatever you ask if we can forget what an ass I've been all evening. Please. I'm begging you," she said.

"Apology accepted," he said. He leaned in and kissed her gently, wiping tears from her cheeks. When they embraced, she sobbed into his shoulder.

Chapter 6: Saturday

They did not make love during the night. He helped her undress and loaned her a T-shirt to keep her warm, settling her into the bed and spooning her until they fell asleep. When the light peeked in through the curtains, he awoke to find her smiling, lounging on her pillow as she watched him.

"Thank you," she said.

He moved to kiss her, to draw her to him when he noticed the loaner T-shirt was gone. Lydia was fit but not muscular, with a flat stomach and sculpted ass, and, yes, just a few extra pounds below the belt. Her breasts were full and round with large areola pink and speckled, natural and sensitive, and small nipples poking up in the middle. James pulled the sheet down slightly to see them in the daylight.

He rolled on top of her, and their kissing became more intense, almost frantic. His hard-on, trapped between them, oozed pre-cum as he rocked on her. When the kiss broke, he raised himself up on his straightened arms and looked down at her hair arrayed over the pillow, her beautiful dark eyes, and that sweet smile that drew him to her last night outside the ballrooms.

"You are beautiful," he said, "and don't argue with me."

A smile of sadness appeared as she said, "Never again."

He dropped long enough to kiss her lips, then the tops of her breasts.

"I'm feeling playful," he said. "Are you feeling playful?"

A grin erupted from her face, and she nodded.

James lifted himself off of her and out of bed. "One moment." He returned with a small tube. "Guys get lonely, too, so don't judge."

It was a small bottle of lube small enough for a carry-on. She watched him pull the sheet down.

"I promise to warm you up again after," he said. She nodded.

His cock was hard. She watched it bounce as he remounted the bed and sat on her stomach.

"Cold," he said. "Sorry, we'll warm it up next time."

He squirted a healthy amount of lube into his hands and slipped his fist up and down his cock, jacking it, throwing his head back, and sighing. "Fuck," he said.

She reached for his torso, running her over his muscles and hips. "You are so hard, baby, I'm getting wet just watching."

Her tits were lying there, flopped to the sides, and he dropped a dollop of lube between them. She grinned and said, "Chilly."

"Your tits are absolutely gorgeous," he said. "I'm going to fuck them. Do you like getting your tits fuck."

"Yes," she said, "I like a hard cock between my tits." She used her hands to pull her tits upright, creating a fleshy tunnel for his rod, and he began pumping. "Oh, god, James. Fuck me. Fuck my tits."

His cock made an obscene squishy noise in her tits, the head poking through near her chin on every stroke. When they locked eyes, he said, "Are you the kind of woman who will suck a man dry when he cums? Does a man cumming in your mouth excite you?"

"Yes," she said, "fuck!" She squeezed her tits together harder. "I love a hard cock in my mouth. I love to suck balls and swallow. Fuck my tits, then fuck my mouth. I'll drain your big prick."

"Eleven out of ten for talking dirty," he said. "That's the fastest way to get me off. Do you like it a little rough?"

She sneaked a hand beneath his leg and began rubbing her clit and fingering herself. "I'm a big girl," she said, "I won't break." Then, "Fuck! I'm so wet! I'm close!"

He raised himself off her belly, held her tits, and freed both of her hands so she could service her twat. He pumped faster, his cock a piston in the folds of her tits, as he watched the head appear and disappear. "I don't want to last." He growled. "I want to stick my cock in your mouth and fill it."

Lydia's movements became more frantic. "Do it, baby! I'm almost there, too!"

After a few more pumps, he rocked forward and stuck his hard cock in her mouth, jacking it fast while he spurted jet after jet. He resisted sinking down and fucking her throat.

She shook and screamed with a mouth full of cock, sucking madly. He withdrew his cock and saw his load resting in her mouth, soupy and slick. She swallowed and gasped, and he wiped his wet dick over her face.

"Fuck," she whispered.

He dropped his softening dick into her mouth, and she sucked gently, drawing out the last of his sperm, smiling and giggling. "Mmmmm," she hummed. When he pulled his dick out again, she said, "My new stud cums a lot."

"All for you, baby," he said, and he rolled off of her. He glanced at the area between her legs and saw a small puddle. "Miss Lydia got off, too," he said. "She deserves some joy in her life."

His smile was sweet, and he brushed some hair from her brow. He could taste his own load still coating her tongue when he kissed her.

"Are we going to stay in bed and fuck ourselves silly?" She asked.

He shook his head. "I think we should spend some time together today. I can see you like fucking me," he said, "but let's see if you like me when we're not fucking."

"Or dancing," she said.

"Exactly," he replied with a smile. "Let's get cleaned up, go down to breakfast, make sure plenty of your classmates see that somebody-just-fucked-the-shit-out-of-me look on your face, then do some shopping. It would be nice to walk around."

"OK," she said. She sat up, draped her arms around his neck, and kissed him, rubbing her tits on his chest.

He hefted a breast and massaged it, sighing into her mouth. "You're a goddess," he said.

"You make me feel like one," she replied.

Chapter 7: Breakfast

They entered the hotel restaurant arm in arm. She wore a breezy top emphasizing her décolletage and capri pants; he wore a polo shirt and khakis. The restaurant was in the large open area near the elevators, with rooms towering above them. The skylights bathed the open area in natural light, and a nearby waterfall dampened the sounds of conversations and filled the air with a lush, tropical feel. James and Lydia stood in line waiting to be seated and planned their day.