The British are Cuming!

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A young man's chance meeting with a British widow.
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Writer's Note: This is a story for adults over eighteen years of age about adults over eighteen years of age. While the story line is true, the dialog has been compressed for the sake of time and space. Safe sex was not an issue in the early sixties and seventies but should be a concern for everyone today.

*****

Being a graduate student, teaching full time, and mowing lawns to supplement low teacher's pay in the early 1960's, I did not have the time or inclination for relationships. I made do with afternoon trysts, quickies, and nooners with mature wives whose husbands were too busy fishing or playing golf; or perhaps an occasional evening with a lonely widow and there were plenty of attractive ones living in our rural, mostly retirement town. I quickly learned that mature women appreciated compliments, especially from younger men, more so than their younger counterparts and they were less interested in relationships.

It was a beautiful spring afternoon in our small town just north of Tampa. I left the library after spending the morning working on a paper for one of my graduate classes at the local university in Tampa. As I headed toward my truck, I saw an attractive, mature, woman dressed in a floral print, cotton dress walking toward me. It was a breezy day and she struggled to keep her wide brimmed, straw hat from taking flight while at the same time keeping her dress from blowing up as she carried an arm full of books

I smiled as the very attractive woman with an almost angelic face, approached me; I was about to ask if I could assist her by carrying her books, but just as I was ready to speak she stumbled, almost fell; she dropped her armload of books on the sidewalk. I moved quickly to catch her then realized that she had gotten one of the heels of her shoe stuck in a crack in the sidewalk and it had broken off.

I asked, "My goodness, are you okay?"

"Yes, thank you for catching me before I fell; I'm such a ninny," She said with her face and very ample chest flushed with embarrassment.

Surprised by her very British accent I smiled and replied, "I'm not exactly sure what a 'ninny' is, but if it has anything to do with being beautiful, I agree completely."

She giggled like a school girl as I helped her regain her balance; she stood on one foot and held up the foot with the broken heel. After some discussion I suggested that she just sit on a nearby bench for a few minutes while I picked up her books and carried them inside the library; she agreed and I helped her hop to the bench without snagging her stocking.

I took her books inside and checked them in then returned to the sidewalk where her heel was still stuck in the crack; I pulled it out and took it to her.

"May I touch your ankle to make sure it isn't seriously hurt?"

"Of course," she replied, "It hurts a bit, but I don't think it is seriously hurt."

I supported her stocking encased calf in one hand and pressed along the ankle bone on both sides for any sign of injury more serious than a sprain then moved my hand to the bottom of her foot and pressed gently upward. She looked and me and smiled as I flexed her foot gently while admiring her brightly painted, red toes.

"We need to get some ice on that as quickly as possible to keep it from swelling. I'll give you a lift home if you don't mind riding in my truck."

She agreed; I pulled my truck close to the bench and helped her in. We exchanged names as I drove the two blocks to her home; her name was Julia and I was correct, she was British.

"I hate to be such a bother to you; you have already been so kind."

I replied, "A beautiful woman is never a bother. Besides you need to know that chivalry is still alive in the colonies."

She chuckled a throaty laugh saying, "You are being very kind to an old woman."

"Nonsense," I said, "I'm just trying to gain the favor of a beautiful woman and we will have no more talk about old women."

She smiled an admiring smile.

I pulled into her driveway as close to the walk leading to her door as possible. I wrapped her arm around my shoulder, and my arm around her waist to support her weight as she hopped on her good foot to the house. It was shameful the way I took notice of the jiggling motion of her very ample breasts as she hopped along.

I laughed and said, "Just imagine the gossip this may cause in the neighborhood; "I saw her staggering home in the middle of the afternoon in the arms of a young man."

We both laughed

"You must join me for tea." She said as we reached her door.

I got her situated on the sofa with her injured leg elevated on cushions then got ice from the kitchen, put it in a plastic bag, wrapped a towel around it, and covered her ankle. She called out directions for making tea from the nearby sofa. I didn't do too badly even though I was a bit clumsy with the serving tray.

As we enjoyed our tea, I told her about my short visits to England while I was stationed in West Germany; Julia told me about her romance with Paul, her late husband. She had married the American diplomat who had passed away two years earlier. Her living room was filled with pictures of their world travels in the Foreign Service. In no time, the tea was replaced with sherry and two hours quickly passed without our realizing it.

A glass of sherry became several and our conversation became more personal, Julia admitted only that she was in her fifties; I was twenty-seven. We mellowed as we sipped the warm, garnet red nectar. Julia told me about some of the risqué antics she and Paul had engage in over their years together; like going to a nude beach in Spain and ducking behind the shrubs at a diplomatic party for some quick loving.

"Wow! I'm so envious." I said then asked, "What beautiful feature of yours did Paul admire the most?"

She laughed, "Oh Luv, that's easy, Paul loved my bum (bottom). He could not keep his hands off of it when he was around me. I had to be especially careful if we were in a lift (elevator) with other people. It was if that was all he hand on his mind; he was well endowed and very skilled," she said, fanning herself with her hand.

It was obvious that she was enjoying remembering their relationship. Her eyes were wide, her face and chest flushed. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed deeply. I wanted to keep her on the topic.

I injected, "So, you had other lovers with which to compare Paul?"

She sipped her sherry, "Of course, Luv, I was thirty when we met so I had had a number of lovers before Paul. Paul was fifteen years older than me; I always preferred older men when I was younger," then she smiled at me and added, "Of course, now that I'm older, I think I might prefer younger men."

"Did you have other lovers after you married?"

"Oh yes, there were times when we were apart for months at a time so I dallied a bit when I was lonely. Paul had to play many different roles in his Foreign Service job; he might have to be a French playboy one time and a married French factory worker another; most of his roles required other women to be with him and I accepted that." She added, "Once we were back together we enjoyed telling each other about our escapades with others; it inflame our passions and we would make passionate love for days."

I removed the ice pack to check for swelling; there was none, she was able to move her foot without discomfort. I wanted to take advantage of the injury since she had one foot propped up on the sofa and the other one on the floor, with her legs splayed open. I took her stocking encased foot in my hands and rubbed her foot, ankle, and calf admiringly then kissed her bright red, polished toes. She smiled approvingly then giggled when I kissed the arch of her foot.

She shivered, "That tickles."

"I probably should go ahead and remove your stocking just in case it swells."

I didn't wait for her approval but rather went about the task as if it was completely natural. Julia did not object when I pushed the bottom of her dress up and moved my hand over the front of her thigh to unfasten the clasp; I decided to keep her talking while I explored beneath her dress.

I asked her, "Did you ever explore other possibilities, like multiple partners or other women?"

My hand found the clasp of her suspenders close to the inside of her upper thigh and unfastened it; I was immediately treated to the feel of her incredibly smooth thigh, just inches from her hidden treasure. I moved my hand to the outside and found the next fastener across her hip and my fingers slowly and deliberately freed it from the top of her stocking; she continued to tell me:

"Paul would tease me about inviting another man to join us, but we never followed through with it. I have to admit that the idea of laying nude between two men is an intriguing thought; if Paul had arranged it, I certainly would have been a very willing participant. And yes, I have had fantasies about other women and have even discussed it with my British friend in Tampa; she has fantasized about other women too."

She refilled our glasses with sherry even though we were both buzzed. As she poured she leaned close and gave me a nice view of the tops of her breasts, "You forgot one." She smiled, "Across the pond, suspenders (garter belts) have six clasps, three on each side."

"Well, I guess that means I'll just have to search diligently for the other one."

She lifted her knee up to give me access to the back of her leg and gave me a coy smile when I pushed her dress higher to explore. The first thing I noticed was that she was not wearing American style panties that fit closely around the legs, but rather short, open leg knickers, or what the Sears catalog called bloomers. One leg was loose enough to show the thick, dark pubic hair along her upper thigh and part of her crotch; I have always loved full, all-natural, thick pubic hair. I wrapped both hands around her smooth thigh, pretending to search until I found the last suspender on the back of her thigh. I unfastened it slowly and began to roll the stocking down her shapely, smooth leg.

She matter-of-factly stated, "I guess there is no reason to leave the other stocking on. Of course, if you had rather, Luv, I can take it off."

"Nonsense, I cannot have you doing anything that might delay your recovery," she smiled a sultry smile.

As soon as I rolled the stocking off her injured foot, I took her foot in my hands and kissed the instep causing her to giggle again. I took each, brightly painted toe into my hot, wet mouth and twirled my tongue around it; she screeched then quivered and was immediately covered with goose bumps. Her chest rose and fell quicker as her breathing increased.

"Oh wow, that certainly caused a tingling all over my body," she giggled again then wiggled her bottom."

I immediately went to work on removing the stocking from the other leg, except this time, I was a little more deliberate. When my hands reached the top of her stocking, I leaned forward and kissed the smooth skin of her bare thigh as my fingers unfastened the front and side clasps. She lifted her uninjured foot to the coffee table to give me access to the suspender at the back of her thigh; I was between her completely open legs. I rolled the stocking down and off of her foot then covered her foot with kisses. Again, I took each toe into my mouth and swirled my tongue around each one.

Julia giggled as I continued to hold her foot and look down at her, "You Yanks certainly have excellent medical techniques. I may even want to get injured more often."

Still holding her uninjured leg up, I kissed down the back of her flank from her knee to her bottom. The open leg of her knickers exposed the entire right side of her puffy, hair covered vulva. It was much too inviting to pass up, so I gave it a kiss. When I inhaled the scent of her aroma, one kiss was not enough. The loose crotch of her knickers was easily pushed aside; the large puffy lips of her vulva were unable to hide her elongated, exposed labia and I took full advantage of the delicious treat.

Julia's reaction was immediate; she began to move her hips to gain better contact. Her hands guided my face to the right spots. Her grunts and moans gave me positive feedback as to my effectiveness; they quickly increased in tone and tempo. I didn't let up until she screamed out then collapsed on the sofa. I sat and watched as her face and body recovered.

"Luv, why don't we move back to my bedroom? We will have more room and I can get out of my dress."

We headed down a short hallway without much support; she was able to put weight on her ankle without a limp. Her bedroom was large with a king-sized bed, a sitting area with a divan, and two upholstered Queen Anne chairs. Near her walk-in closet were two large oval mirrors mounted in removable antique stands to allow the mirrors to tilt.

I stood Julia in front of the mirrors so we could see front and side views. I moved behind her, unzipped her dress, and watched the mirrored images as I slid the dress slowly down her shoulders. She was a plus sized woman, a few inches shorter than my five foot, ten-inch frame. She had wide shoulders that tapered slowly downward to her noticeably smaller waist before flaring outward to her wide, round hips. The years had sculpted her features into a perfect form; every ounce was in just the right place.

I kissed her neck and shoulders then slid the dress lower exposing her large grapefruit sized breasts fully contained in her light pink, lace trimmed brassiere; my hands moved to caress the large mounds of flesh, my fingers moved over her already hard nipples. Julia moaned softly, moved her hands back to my hips and rubbed her firm, round bottom against me.

I pushed the dress over her round hips and let it slide to the floor. A soft "wow" escaped my lips as I took in the image of the mature woman in front of me wearing only a bra and lacy white, satin knickers with the fasteners of her suspenders peeking out beneath the short, loose legs. I stood for several minutes to absorb each pixel of her image. Julia quickly turned and pushed my shirt over my head then turned back around for me to finish my work.

I unfastened the engineered marvel that held her full, mature breasts secure; on a small tag was printed, 38D. Once the small hooks were unfastened, I placed my hands on her shoulders and watched in the mirror as the straps slid over her shoulders and down her arms. I marveled at the size and symmetry of the large orbs as the cups fell free. Their tops gave way to a slight downward slope to the silver-dollar sized, brown areola adorned with lots of pleasure bumps and rather long nipples. The undersides were rounded as if they were full and rested against her upper rib cage. What a sight to behold!

As the garment fell to the floor, my hands, again, were unable to capture their full size; they settled on capturing her, already hard, nipples. Julia moaned and lay her head back against my shoulder and pushed her mature, firm arse against my still covered erection; we looked at each other in the mirror, knowing where our journey would lead us, but wanting to enjoy the scenic view.

"I've never seen a woman in knickers before; they look very sexy on you."

"Thank you, Luv. In this hot, humid Florida weather, they allow a little air to circulate to help keep my quim fresh."

I added, "And tasty."

My hands explored Julia's torso, her noticeable smaller waist and flared hips and slightly rounded tummy before they slipped inside the waistband of her knickers. Her breathing became deeper and faster as my hands glided over her warm, smooth skin and came to rest in her thick nest of pubic hair. My fingers probed her slick, juicy folds and found the long sheath hidden in her massive lips.

"Oooooh, I love the way you torture me.

My hands quickly retreated and pushed knickers to the floor. Julia kicked them aside with her not so injured foot and turned to kiss me passionately. Her bare breasts pressed against my bare chest; one of life's greatest pleasures, a woman's bare breasts pressed against a man's bare chest. I looked over her shoulder at the image of her bare, wide, mature bottom in her mirror and understood why Paul admired it so. I didn't resist the urge to give it a good smack. Her hands went to my shorts and deftly unfastened them and pushed them to the floor; as usual, I wore no underwear. Her hands went straight to my already engorged cock.

"Oh my, what a wonderful package you bring me." She turned to face the mirrors again pulling me beside her. "It's my turn to observe you."

My turgid cock rested against her tummy a few inches above her thick hair; she laughed, "We should have a picture of this."

She slipped to her knees to examine her prize more closely then after a few kisses, slid the entire length into her hot mouth. I stood and watched in the mirror as Julia took her turn in torturing me with her warm, wet mouth.

I pulled her to her feet, wrapped her in my arms, and kissed her delicious lips.

"Tell me, what would Paul do now?"

She laughed, "I have no doubt that he would put me on my knees on the bed and cover my arse with kisses before mounting me. The only question would be which well would he drill first."

"Then, get on the bed because that is exactly what I want to do to you," I gave her arse another good swat to show her I meant business.

Julia laughed and crawled up on the bed on her knees displaying her beautiful mature bottom with all it treasures; she stretched her arms out like a cat stretching after a nap. She giggled and wiggled as my lips kissed and my tongue danced over and around the expanse of flesh. I opened her cheeks wide to find that special rose bud hidden in the nest of thick, pubic hair. She moaned and rolled her hips as my tongue pushed against the delicate petals before rimming her tight arse.

I mounted the willing mare, smacked her flanks with my turgid cock before grabbing her hips, and pushing deep into the wettest orifice; my balls smacked against the downy soft nest of hair covering her full, puffy vulva. She groaned as I withdrew then slammed against her flanks causing a smacking sound. I felt her fingers near my balls as she began to work feverishly in her glistening, wet folds.

There was no doubt that Julia wanted, maybe even needed, release from a dry spell of doing without Paul and his well endowed "package." I quickly picked up the pace to match the pace of her fingers and moans. As I thrust forward, I pulled back on her hips to deliver as much power as possible against her flanks. Julia, several times reach a feverish pitch then backed off for just seconds then starting all over again.

I squeezed my balls as tight as possible to hold my load, but it wasn't easy; my senses were almost completely immersed in the total experience. I tried to disassociate myself from the sight, sound, aroma, and touch of fucking the beautiful, mature woman. I was determined to not let this be my only ride and I was certain Julia would want more too.

She collapsed on the bed and my cock slipped out of her hot juicy cunt and found a place to rest between the sweet cheeks of her beautiful arse. We finally regained our breath as I rested over her on my hands and knees.

"Will, that was absolutely wonderful. You don't have to be Paul nor do you have to compete with him, but thank you for playing the game with me," she squeezed her cheeks together, hugging my still very hard cock and wiggling her hips.

"Mmmm, could that be an invitation from a jealous arse?"

Julia laughed a throaty laugh then wiggled her hips again. I rolled her on her side, pushed her right leg up, and straddled her left leg; my balls resting on her upper thigh. She fluffed up several pillows under her head so she could watch me take my glistening, rigid cock in my hand and guide it to her rear chute. As women always do, she missed out on one of the best parts of having sex, watching a man's cock stretch open their delicate membranes and disappear into their body.

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