Skydiver Sue: First Date Surprise

We met online, on a dating site, Sue and I, about three months after my now ex-wife and I separated.

Sue made the initial approach. It was just one of those pro forma greetings that I usually ignored.

Her profile didn't give much away, other than that she was divorced with an adult son, and, proudly, her hobby was skydiving.

But, going by the sole pic on her profile, in a bikini at a beach, she was slim and nice enough looking, so I replied and started a conversation.

After exchanging three or four messages and just as I was wondering where this was going, she sent me a clear face shot--very presentable, if not knock your socks off stuff--and I responded in kind.

Surprisingly, she then asked to see my private photos. I hesitated. First, it's a bit early for that, I thought. Second, she had none posted to her profile. Third, the contents may not be what she thought, if you get my drift.

In reality, mine were just a couple of dick pics that I wouldn't normally send unless explicitly invited. This message exchange had hardly gone beyond the essentials: both single, check; both available, check; both working, check; both willing to meet in real life, check.

So I thought I should check.

"Hey," I wrote, "My private photos are just a couple of dick selfies, just in case some lovely lady asks, you know? I don't want to offend."

Her reply was to send me a full body photo of her relaxing in her bath, smiling coyly and with everything revealed except for her hand strategically placed between her thighs.

Also revealed was her very noticeable tummy tattoo, to her right, near her right hip: a red rose on a stalk of green leaves.

I found out later she really had been in her bath--Sue loves her baths--while messaging and framed and sent the pic in real time.

Of course, with my dick rapidly swelling, I immediately made my private pics available to her!

Then I waited anxiously for her reply, which took a little time. Would she like my cock? Am I big enough for her tastes? Just the typical guy stuff, I suppose.

After what seemed an age, I opened her next email eagerly.

"Is one of those women your wife?"

Oh shit. I realised immediately what I had done.

In my private file there were two pics of my penis, in one flaccid, in the other, erect (fatter than average, and close to seven inches, so average length, I guess, for those interested).

But I had forgotten a third pic, one I had taken, showing two happily nude ladies looking up while kneeling at my feet, each running their tongues over my erect cock.

You see, my then wife and I were swingers for three or four years, although that had stopped some years before we separated. I didn't include this detail on my dating profile, for obvious reasons.

Now if I had refreshed my memory of the pics beforehand, I would have removed it.

Oh well, what's done is done.

"Yes," I replied.

"Which one?"

"On the right." The other was a lovely lady named Stacey. Her husband was watching the fun, but out of shot.

"Were you swingers?"

"Yes."

"Special occasion?"

"My birthday."

"OK."

At that, there was long pause in the conversation, a complete absence of messages. I figured I had blown that one...bugger. But just in case, I waited.

Then her response arrived, a close up of her exposed pussy between her well parted thighs--completely clean shaven, her slightly engorged clitoris emerging above her tidy labia.

And another! For this one, she had rolled over onto her front and somehow captured the view from her lovely butt to the top of her head, while coyly, sexily looking over her shoulder into the camera. Above her buttocks, another sizeable tattoo, this one an abstract image--something for all the men to look at, she once told me, smiling, teasing again.

From that point, I took the view that too much "talking" would only endanger the "sale," and suggested we meet, soon. Again she replied with a photo, frontal, still in the bath, this time with an index finger hovering above her now clearly stimulated, very swollen clitoris glans and that sexy, so sexy, coy smile looking directly into the camera.

The message was clear: she was horny and the answer was yes.

We agreed on day and time, and met for coffee on a Wednesday afternoon.

The coffee date was quick (how long does it take to drink a cup of coffee?) with fairly guarded conversation, although at one stage I cheekily remarked that we had already seen quite a lot of each other. Sue averted her eyes downward with that coy, exposed pussy bath smile.

We were both just checking that the other actually existed, I suppose, and that each of us were relatively true to our respective dating profiles, which we were, more or less.

So we made arrangements for our first date, Friday night dinner in a nearby seaside suburb.

I was already falling in love.

Over the next two evenings, Sue sent a variety of pics, most explicit --exiting a plane naked for a nude club night time skydive (tits proudly on show, nipples outstanding, and a peek of pussy squished between the chute straps); graphic intimate selfies; fondling her clitoris in her bath; sexy dress ups inside and nude sunbathing pics outside.

But for me, the highlight during that exchange was surely the short video of her right hand (two finger tips) gently stimulating her clitoral glans, which looked like a tiny acorn but so smooth and pink and glistening--maybe a touch of oil?

Beyond the titillation, what did I actually see?

I saw a lovely lady still three years from 60, so nine years younger than myself (she didn't know that yet. I only owned to five, not nine), with a smile to melt your heart, five feet nothing, 115 lbs (52 kgs), pert, perfect breasts with permanently erect nipples, ultra flat tummy, and firm, round butt.

I imagined her pussy could not be anything but a nice, tight fit (spoiler: I was right).

I also saw a dream come true.

I wondered what she saw? I think it was obvious that she was in a sexually intense phase--I couldn't imagine this was her permanent state--and if nothing else, I was Johnny on the spot. I just hoped and prayed she could maintain that state for another couple of nights!

Friday night dinner went well, too, notwithstanding unsettling thoughts of her intimate images coursing through my brain as I looked across the table, wondering if tonight's the night we get tactile. I wondered if she had the same kind of thoughts.

I have no idea what we talked about, only that it was neutral stuff like work, that she had left her puppies alone, so couldn't be too late...time dragged as my thoughts kept turning to what I knew was under her clothes.

In fact, we were in and out in less than an hour, and I only realised later she was just as keen as I was to stop talking and start fucking.

When we left the restaurant, it turned out we had parked close to each other, so, at her suggestion, we took my car for the short drive to the beachfront, where I parked well away from the two or three other cars still there. It was already dark.

Looking back, Sue was now beginning to assert her natural state, in charge, the dominant decision maker. But what the heck, so long as all roads led to her pussy, that was fine by me.

Am I a terrible person?

I turned the car off.

I was so very horny.

Neither of us said a word as I turned towards her and begin to undo her blouse buttons. The bloody top one was trick, of course. Of course it was. But Sue responded by taking charge and quickly removing her clothes herself.

All her clothes: blouse, bra, jeans and panties.

I was transfixed, unable to believe my luck. As her jeans were coming off, my surprise was so obvious that she smilingly leaned towards my ear and said softly:

"You've already seen everything. Take yours off, too"

Now fully naked, she reclined against the passenger door and pulled her knees up and apart.

As you can imagine, with street light seeping into the car, her pussy was completely, invitingly exposed to my excited gaze.

Once she saw she had my full attention, with a steady gaze she slapped her pussy a few times with her middle three fingers, all the while making cute little h-hmm, h-hmm, h-hmm tunes.

And there was that sexy, coy smile again as next she licked two fingers and reached down and twiddled her clitoris from side to side, then around and around, just as she had in the video, as though providing me a roadmap to her orgasm.

Sue was beginning to flush.

Then she slowly inserted her middle finger into her vaginal opening and moved it in and out, looking straight at me, smiling: h-hmm, h-hmm...

I was spellbound.

What should I do?

She had the answer.

"I love tongue," Sue eventually said, giving her outer lips a final rub before removing her hand and spreading her legs further, pulling her knees firmly to her breasts.

I obliged, flicking my tongue over her glans, to start, then broader strokes for a wider area.

Oh my, what a tasty pussy!

I wondered if she was aware that with a slight adjustment, I could just as easily target her puckered, alluring rear entrance. Maybe not tonight, I figured, unless asked.

With the tip of my flicking tongue, I could feel her super-smooth clitoral glans had enlarged and the whole vaginal opening was becoming deliciously lubricated.

I varied my attention between licking side to side and up and down, to swirling circles and to thrusting as deep as I could into her love channel, mimicking her fingerwork as closely as I could.

Occasionally, I firmly sucked her entire clitoris between my lips, giving it a good massage with lips and tongue.

Wet, wet pussy was my reward.

After some minutes--God only know how many and anyway, who's counting--of my steady tongue work, Sue held up one index finger and made an urgent, vertical stabbing motion. Her face, suffused with pleasure, said to hurry up already.

For that, I had to shift position so I could ram my finger in and out of her sweet, slippery pussy. I alternated that horizontal piston motion with vigorous vertical stimulation, short strokes hammering her vaginal walls.

All the while continuing with my tongue.

And they say men can't multitask!

Her continuous flow of lubrication told me I was having a telling effect.

Sometimes I added my middle finger, for good measure, and curved them both towards her pubic bone, aiming for her G-spot.

Each change drew a reaction. It was like her pussy was dancing on my tongue, sometimes a waltz, others a foxtrot, but mainly the quickstep.

Just above my eyes, Sue's right hand continuously pulled her labia tight, keeping her quivering clitoris exposed for my attention.

As the minutes passed, my tongue, neck and back muscles were struggling to maintain the pace, but no way was I quitting!

Gradually, her breathing intensified, her breaths shorter, less controlled. Her legs and tummy muscles began to involuntarily twitch.

Suddenly, her knees clamped hard on my head as she shuddered into her climax, pulling away from my mouth, clutching at her stomach muscles, pushing her face into her thighs, making funny little oohs and aahs and tiny grunts as her follow-up orgasms continued, like aftershocks, subsiding only slowly.

[Sue told me on another occasion that of the men she had granted "auditions" during this latest 'dating' phase--half a dozen, she reckoned--I was the only one who succeeded in bringing her to orgasm. That was nice to know, I think]

When her climax had sufficiently subsided, she looked into my eyes, giggled and remarked:

"Sorry about the wet seat. The cover will need washing."

I chuckled. I didn't mind in the least having to put the cover through a wash, although, in truth, I just left it as it was but never told her. I enjoyed driving with her sexual fluids slowly evaporating beside me.

"Now it's your turn, Pat," she said, still a little breathless, and I leaned back in my seat, already stiff with anticipation.

Sue moved her still stark naked, tiny, gorgeous body between my legs, kneeling beneath the steering wheel.

Then she looked straight into my eyes as she tongued the sides of my penis, just as she had seen my wife and fellow swinger do in *that* pic. I smiled, acknowledging the message, and she began to blow me in earnest.

When she had had her fill of sucking and licking my cock, while gently cuddling my balls in her hand, Sue moved to position her pussy above my erect cock and lowered her hips, reaching down between her thighs to guide me into her pleasure zone.

I never tired of that special feeling of my penis entering her pussy. My moan of pleasure each and every time became a standing joke between us, and she once exclaimed from above, while fully impaled upon my member, "My pussy must be the perfect fit for your willy!"

I confess, it was.

At her insistence, I even once made a solemn promise not to moan. Of course, she was delighted in her triumph when I failed to stifle a little a sigh of pleasure, but the little tease did lower her pussy very, very slowly, that time.

But, right now, I was experiencing the joy of her vagina for the first time, so I was seeing stars, bedazzled. She was more composed and whispered into my ear:

"Where's your phone?"

I knew what she wanted, pics. I reached for it and turned on the camera. For the next 20mins or so, anyone watching would have seen flash after flash as I recorded the most intimate views of her tight vagina encasing my fat willy.

After a while she whispered into into my ear, "Can you cum? I need to get back to my puppies."

I learnt never question her devotion to her puppies! They were actually adult dogs, but to her they are her babies forever, permanently in her heart and far more important than men with their demanding cocks that she required only intermittently.

So I put the phone aside and increased my pace and thrust as fast and as hard and as deep as I could. What a delight when I discovered a hot spot right where my tip was at maximum reach. I grasped her hips to change her technique from up and down to grinding her pubic bone on mine. With my tip wallowing in her hot juices, well, that did it. We could both feel the vibration in my cock as the load of semen squirted deep into her innermost recesses.

She smiled her delight and sat still while my penis--willy, as she preferred to call it--subsided. When she released it, I snapped a pic, the last, of her dismount, capturing a stream of my semen dribbling from her wide open labia.

She giggled again as she remarked on what people in the other cars must have thought of all the camera flashes, each one lighting up the interior as though it was daylight, her gorgeous, bare breasts on full display. Honestly, I was oblivious to whatever anyone outside the car was doing or thinking.

Now that we were finished, we both pulled up our jeans, but as she went to put her bra and shirt back on, I asked her to drive back to the car park topless. It was a test of her adventurousness. She actually agreed, didn't cover her tits at all for the short return trip, and the driver of a car exiting the parking area did a double take as we passed him on our way in.

"I don't think it was anyone I know," she said with a smile. "I bet that disappoints you," she continued, with an even bigger smile.

I just smiled. But she already knew me well.

After she finished dressing, I escorted her the few paces to her car, and watched, happy and sated, as she drove off.

She was spending the next two days skydiving at her club, so we didn't communicate much for three days, but the following Tuesday evening I received a text.

"Bath time. Wanna cum?"

Sue greeted me at the door in a barely closed pink dressing gown and escorted me past two very suspicious, very small, very yappy dogs to her bedroom.

"Undress here and I'll see you in the bath."

Yes Ma'am.

The bath became where we talked as well as fucked. But tonight it was mainly fucking.

I said to her once, much later:

"When we met you had ants in your pants."

"So did you."

A fair reply.

In her bath, Sue liked to to start the fun by exposing her clitoris, pulling her labia tight, teasing me by using her fingers on it but making my impatient tongue wait: pure torture and she knew it.

She liked to spend long periods lying beside me in the warm water, treating my willy like a lollipop, running her tongue around its head before burying it deep in her mouth and throat.

She liked to mount my cock both cowgirl and reverse cowgirl style, and do squats forever but not allowing me to come. If I gave signs of approaching ejaculation, she would jump off, grinning and wagging a finger:

"No, no, no!"

After drying off, she liked to retire to her bed or to the sofa in her living room, usually with an interested canine audience, where I would bring her to orgasm with my tongue, in between energetic fucking with cock and fingers, then fuck he until I, too, came.

I once asked her what her poor dogs thought of all this carry on.

She looked at them and replied, "Oh, they're used to it."

Oh well, I love a randy woman, and as a former enthusiastic swinger, I wasn't in a position to complain.

And I learnt that all her relationships had been and were still quite short--this fact always nagged at the back of my mind--four years at most, including her marriage, although some had reappeared from time to time.

Her ex-husband she met skydiving, before they became a couple and had a child. He wasn't in the reappearing lover category, but they both remained at the same skydiving club and had a companionable relationship--as a single lady, she was always careful to keep her handymen handy.

I'm not a handyman.