Sans Serif

Heading up Pennsylvania Avenue, we first stopped in front of the Treasury Building. I pointed out the statue of Alexander Hamilton and told Ellen of his life story from illegitimate bastard, born to an unwed mother on Nevis Island in the Caribbean, to becoming our first Secretary of the Treasury. Then we proceeded to the north side of the White House. We stopped for the longest time, as I discussed the working of the executive branch - at least my understanding of it. And we turned and chatted with a few of the always present protesters across the street in Lafayette Park before moving on. I pointed out Blair House, where visiting dignitaries frequently stay when visiting the White House.

And as we turned the corner and headed down 17^th Street, I pointed out the Old Executive Office Building. "Built in the late 19^th century, it originally housed the Departments of State, War, and the Navy. Affectionally known locally as the SWAN Building. But all of those departments quickly outgrew it, and it simply became the Executive Office Building. There were several attempts to tear it down. But all of them failed, and it has now been designated as a National Historic Landmark. So, I guess it's here to stay," I rambled. Whether Ellen was impressed by my knowledge of local landmarks or not, I'll never know. But she sweetly listened and never let go of my hand as I droned on and on.

Turning east on E Street, we walked toward the South Lawn of the White House. Stopped to admire the southern facade of the Executive Mansion, as it was first called, with its semi-circular portico facing the South Lawn and The Ellipse. It was now after nine o'clock, and the Ellipse was reasonably dark. But it felt safe enough, so we headed down the sidewalk, circling the Ellipse.

The first thing we encountered was the Boy Scout Commemorative Memorial. Being an old Boy Scout, I pulled Ellen over to look at it. And upon realizing that the Boy Scout Oath and Law were emblazoned on the stone pedestal, I quickly turned my back to the monument and faced Ellen so that she could read it. Now with my back to the statue, and facing Ellen, I raised my arm in the Boy Scout sign - and repeated from memory.

On my honor, I will do my best,

To do my duty to God and my country,

And to obey the Scout law;

To help other people at all times;

To keep myself physically strong,

Mentally awake and morally straight.

She smiled that I apparently had not missed a single word. But I wasn't done.

The Scout Law

A Scout is: Trustworthy, Loyal, Helpful, Friendly, Courteous, Kind, Obedient, Cheerful, Thrifty, Brave, Clean, and Reverent.

Now she clearly was impressed, and I was silently pretty proud of myself also. It had been many years since I recited those words. But I guess they must have sunk in, as I just rattled them off as if I still delivered them weekly as I did when I was a boy.

From there we rejoined hands and slowly strolled toward the Washington Mall and the Smithsonian Metro station. Standing at the entrance, before going down the escalator, I asked her, "Blue Line or Yellow?" She just smiled and shrugged, as I guess it didn't make any difference to her. "We would have to transfer to the Yellow Line, or we can take the Blue Line, even though it is longer."

She squeezed my hand and said, "The Blue."

"Well then, the Blue it is," I announced, and we headed down the escalator. It was now getting close to ten o'clock, and the subway was almost deserted. But in the nearly empty car, we sat hip to hip as I chattered away about every little stupid thing that popped into my head. As the train stopped at the Arlington Cemetery Metro station, I was still talking non-stop. But I guess Ellen had had enough. Without warning, she leaned over and kissed me - square on the lips.

Now, that did stop me from talking. And as Ellen slowly pulled back, our eyes met for what I guess was really the first time. For up until that moment, I had never even noticed the color of her eyes. They were a deep hazel. And even in the harsh fluorescent light of the subway car, they sparkled like precious jewels.

Two subway stations later was my stop, Pentagon City. And as I started to stand, Ellen gently placed her hand on my thigh and nudged me back into my seat. It was clear that she wanted me to stay. The next station was Crystal City, and as the train slowed to a stop, Ellen took my hand and pulled me to a standing position. As the subway doors slid open, she eagerly walked me through the station, up the escalator, through the hotel lobby and up to her room. No words were exchanged, as I was now speechless. But no words needed to be exchanged, as it was clear where I was spending the night and in whose bed.

I had not been with a woman in several years, and it appeared that Ellen was as starved for sexual intimacy as much as I was. I wasn't a virgin. I was married for eighteen years, and I had two grown children from that union. And I had dated a few women back in San Diego over the years since my divorce. But I had never picked up a woman while on a business trip in my life. So, in many ways, I was at least a virgin in that regard, and I was as nervous as a captured bird.

Standing at the foot of Ellen's bed, she reached up and wrapped both of her arms around my neck as she brought her lips back to mine. There was no mistaking her intentions now, for on the train the kiss may have been on the lips, but it wasn't full open mouth. This one was, and quickly our tongues began a mutual oral exploration of each other's mouth. As I wrapped my arms around her, I realized for the first time that she wasn't wearing a bra. I have no idea why it took me so long to realize that, as her dress was supported by only the thinnest of spaghetti straps, and there were no secondary bra straps under them. Plus, the dress was fairly low cut in the back, so it was not like she was wearing any kind of tube bra, like my ex typically wore when similarly dressed.

Now feeling I had her full permission to proceed. I gently broke our lip lock and staring into her eyes for the second time that night, I put my hands on her shoulders and gently slipped those thinnest of straps from her body. This loosened her dress for sure, but as it was tailored at her hips, it didn't fall very far. Seizing the moment, Ellen reached behind her back and effortlessly lowered the zipper holding the dress to her body, allowing it to now leisurely tumble to the floor. To my delight, she was strikingly beautiful for a woman her age. Her face and hair left the impression that she was my age, but her body, her breast, her belly, her legs - all hinted at a woman in her early to mid-thirties. I could not believe my luck. And before someone pinched me, and woke me from this apparent dream, I nudged her back onto the bed. As her feet came off the floor, I stepped back to finish removing her dress from around her ankles, as well as her sandals. I have never understood the fetish some men have for having sex with a beautiful woman while she has her shoes on.

And once I had placed her dress on a nearby chair, and her sandals were neatly tucked under the bed, I only had one more garment to content with. Her panties. They were blue-gray cotton, hip hugger style with a lace waist band. And as I looped my fingers under the lace, instead of me pulling them down, she began scooting up the bed on her back, allowing her lone remaining undergarment to glide from her hips clutched in my trembling hands.

As I slipped her briefs from her ankles, she spread her legs, inviting me to marvel at the garden of delights now fully exposed. This was before many women began to shave or even trim between their legs, and Ellen was no different. A thick dark bush of curls adorned that area of feminine delights that have drawn men crazy since the days of Adam and Eve.

My male instincts needed no further stimulus. Gently placing my hands on Ellen's upper thighs, I held her legs steady as I marveled at the Garden of Eden that lay before me. The aroma of her nether region was not immediately apparent, but as I lowered my face to her most private area; Ellens' feminine fragrance filled my nostrils and sent bolts of sexual energy shooting throughout my body.

Ellen had ostensibly showered before our date. That may have explained her tardiness in meeting me at the Metro station. But that had now been five hours ago. So, her pheromonal bouquet was at that perfect level to electrify my long dormant libido. At five hours, she had reached that Goldy Locks moment of perfection. Anything less, as in straight from the shower, would have left her tasteless - not unlike kissing your sister. And too many hours past this point would, or could, have produced - shall we say a situation less than sanitary. And possibly less appealing to a modern American male.

However, as my tongue parted her lower lips, and made contact with her already arouse clit, the scent and taste of her sweet nectar brought me to a state of arousal like none I had experienced since first dating my former wife. And apparently her state of arousal was keeping pace with mine, lick for tantalizing lick.

I completely lost all sense of time as my face was deeply buried in her dark brunette locks of love. But I know that my darting tongue and passionate lips brought her to at least one, if not more, luxurious climaxes. Her feminine fluids repeatedly filled my mouth, and the taste was indeed a nectar fit for the gods. At this point, my dick was so hard it was literally bringing tears to my eyes. Despite Ellen being totally naked, I was the complete opposite. I had kicked off my shoes when I slipped Ellen's from her feet. But other than that, I was still wearing the clothes I had worn walking the streets of DC an hour earlier - and this needed to change.

Not wanting to end my delicious feast, yet realizing that she was likely ready to move on, I slowly withdrew my face from between her legs and asked, "Are you okay?"

Ellen was panting like a marathon runner that had just run the race of her life. But after a moment to catch her breath, she raised up on her elbows and wheezed, "Dean, I want to suck your dick. I've wanted to suck your dick ever since I first kissed you on the train. And now you have drained every ounce of energy from my body, and I can hardly breathe."

Realizing that was my cue to get naked, I slid off the foot of the bed and immediately started on the buttons of my shirt. Now I was the nervous one, and as I struggled to get each button undone, Ellen moved off the bed and began pulling the bedspread to the foot of the bed and pulling back the top sheet, so as to make us more comfortable. Seeing that I had finished with my shirt and was now busy trying to remove my pants while still standing - hopping from foot to foot. Ellen took this opportunity to walk around the room turning off lights and swinging the night latch on the door closed.

As Ellen returned to bed, I was now as naked as her, and we quickly slipped between the sheets together. Wrapping my arms and legs around her, we resumed kissing and snuggling for several minutes. But Ellen clearly had other plans for her lips, and it was only a matter of minutes before I felt her cool hands gently stroking me. I was now the one to gasp for breath, and she took this opportunity to place a moist trail of fairy kisses down my chest, to the point where my pecker was poking her in the eye. But as this was her goal in the first place, I compliantly rolled on to my back. She cradled the boys in her hand and salaciously engulfed my throbbing manhood into her salivating mouth.

I tried to warn her, "Ellen, I have not had sex in several years, and you are playing with a loaded gun."

The room was dark, but I could see her wave me off with her free hand. She apparently knew what she was doing. And relieving my stress was ostensibly the first order of business. As promised, it did not take long. As my moment of truth approached, I grabbed her hair in a last ditch effort to slow her relentless march to my inevitable conclusion. But instead of allowing me a moment to cool down, she moved her free hand to my belly, and using only the tips of her fingers began playing with my body hair.

"Ahhh," I screamed. "Ahhh!" There was no holding back, as wave after wave of thick warm man cream filled her mouth. She never came up for air, but just slowly began to stroke me and milk me for every ounce I could muster. And hearing her swallow over and over, it must have been a lot.

When Ellen couldn't get another drop from my rapidly deflating penis, she slid up my chest to snuggle. She gave me a minute to recover, then bringing her cum soak lips to mine, asked, "Was that as good for you as it was for me?"

I laughed? "Isn't that supposed to be my line?"

"It will be after you fuck me," she cooed. Still playing with my chest hairs.

"I'm going to fuck you?" I asked. "You mean tonight?"

"You had better," she teased. "I just sucked you, so that when you do fuck me, you'll be able to last long enough to get me off."

"So, there was a strategic plan to this all along?" I sarcastically questioned."

"Of course, you silly boy," she laughed. "You don't think I'd let you go one and done, do you?"

I had no answer for that. But as I lay flat on my back, staring at the ceiling, Ellen was busy twirling her fingers in my chest hair, and occasionally stroking my limp dick to see how my recovery was progressing. When she finally began to feel a spark of life below my beltline, she snuggled closer and resumed kissing me. I didn't mind that Ellen had just blown me to a conclusion, for her kisses were so sweet. And besides, she was now stroking me full-time.

It took maybe fifteen or twenty minutes for Little Dean to regain his previous stature. But as soon as Ellen felt she had something she could work with, she sat up and swung a leg over my hips. She did have to help guide me into her soaking wet hole. But once the connection had been made, she laid back down across my chest. And as she resumed her seductive kissing, and running her fingers through my hair, her torso rocked back and forth in a slow and sensual coitus.

I have no idea how long this copulation continued, but I didn't care if it lasted all night. Ellen probably had at least one orgasm in this arrangement. But once her shuttering subsided, and her leakage had soaked the bed beneath us, she was ready to change positions. She rolled over to her side, pulling me with her. Then she rolled to her back, all the while making sure we stayed connected.

Once I was on top, I held my body over hers with my arms out straight. And as I began pounding away, Ellen quickly wrapped her legs around me and immediately matched my forward thrusts, with upward thrusts of her own. As her leaking continued, that finally did it for me. My hot fluids soon matched and mingled with hers as her final climax of the evening hit. And it hit hard. Ellen's body shook wildly as she screamed in ecstasy and clawed passionately at my back and shoulders.

My orgasm was almost as big as the one I had experienced a half hour earlier as she sucked my dick. But hers was classic. It lasted for over a minute as she thrashed beneath me like a captured wild beast. I'd given women orgasms before, but never anything like this. As I rolled off of her, I couldn't tell if this was normal for her. And if so, wow - what a woman. Or was she as starved for sexual intimacy as much as I was.

Once our respective breathing return to where we could at least speak, I asked, "Was it as good for you as it was for me?"

"You know it was - you wonderful man, you," she responded as she playfully punched my arm, and then began tickling my ribs.

I don't remember much after that. So, we soon must have both drifted off to sleep.

With eyelids still heavy from last night's activity, the next thing I remembered, was sunlight streaming in between the gap in the hotel curtains. Realizing that it was probably the next morning, I glanced over my shoulder to see if Ellen was still there, and the night before had not just been a dream. To my relief, it had not been a dream at all, and she lay to my side - still asleep.

I slipped out of bed and as quietly as possible, walked to the bathroom. After relieving myself and washing my hands and face, I returned to find Ellen awake and sitting up in bed with her back to the headboard. She was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest and the bed sheet pulled up to her neck.

I was still naked, but considering the activity of the night before, I did not feel modest in the least. "How about breakfast?" I cheerfully inquired.

Up until that moment, she wasn't actually looking at me, but more through me to a point on the wall behind my back. Responding to my question, she refocused on my face, and said, "I'm not really a breakfast person."

"Well, how about a coffee?" I asked as I pointed to the hotel room coffee maker on the bureau. She nodded her agreement, and as I turned to read the instructions, she slipped from the bed and walked naked to the bathroom without another word.

As soon as her bare feet hit the bathroom tile, she quickly closed the door. Still not sure of her mood, I listened to see if she locked it - which she didn't. But several moments later, I heard the toilet flush and the shower come on. Well, I guess that answered the question as to whether we were going to have sex again that morning.

As the bathroom door was still closed, I used the bottled water adjacent to the coffee maker to fill the hotel Mr. Coffee. And as it began to wheeze and gurgle to life, I got myself dressed. Now sitting fully dressed in the clothes I had worn the night before, I sat at the small circular table by the window, sipping my coffee and waiting for her to finish her shower and whatever else she was doing behind closed doors.

When Ellen finally did emerge, her body was wrapped in a bath towel, as was her hair. She didn't say anything, but walked to her open luggage and retrieved a pair of panties and a bra. She didn't turn to face me, but nonetheless, dropped the towel from around her body and stepped into her underpants, one leg at a time. These weren't the sexy hip huggers she had worn the night before, but more your typical grannie panties. Then, she wrapped the bra around her body, cups to the back, snapped the hooks, and then spun the secured garment 180 degrees, looped her arms through the shoulder straps, and adjusted her mammaries in the afore mentioned cups.

This solo tango with her lingerie was completed in total silence and in probably less than sixty seconds. Now turning to face me for the first time since exiting the bathroom, and leaving the wet towel on the hotel carpet, Ellen casually walked to where I was sitting and dropped into the chair opposite mine.

I had placed her coffee on the table, and not knowing how she took it, I had laid out several packets of sugar and two individual servings of liquid non-dairy creamer. She tore the top off one of the sugar packets and poured half of its contents into her coffee. Then, after emptying both of the little cups of artificial creamer, she picked up the wooden swizzle stick and began to stir. I was carefully observing how she took her coffee just in case I ever had the need to prepare it for her in the future. But that was looking less and less likely by the minute.

Finally, after taking a sip and allowing the lukewarm beverage to slide down her throat, she looked up at me and said, "I'm sorry, I'm not much of a morning person either."

Suddenly, I was very relieved. "Oh, that's okay. It's our first morning together, and I'm sure there is a little bit of adjusting to do." I smiled as if to accept her apology. But her return smile was slow in coming. "What are your plans for today?" I asked with a hopeful tone in my voice. I was, of course, hoping that we could at least do something together before returning to our dull respective lives.