The Chair

This is a story about an unexpected adventure that recently happened to a 60+ year old married woman, with a generally happy outlook on life but who had dreams and fantasies regarding things that she never experienced but hoped she might.

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I had been thinking about reupholstering several chairs when I mentioned it to a girlfriend who told me about a place that redid some chairs for her. She said that they did a great job, were not too expensive and that the owner was very accommodating. She agreed to take me to the shop. When we got there, the owner, Art, who was a tall handsome black man, enthusiastically greeted us. As he and my friend talked about how well she liked her chairs, he seemed to keep looking toward me which made me feel a bit uncomfortable. Finally, when he asked what I was interested in, I was only able to respond in short answers. Seeing my indecision, he suggested that I come back another time when I had more specific ideas for my chairs.

I had never been with a black man before but at home following the visit, I kept having illusions about being intimate with one. Accepting the fact that I really wanted to get something done with my chairs and after some self-internal debate, I decided to call. On the phone, his voice was very pleasant and amiable and he told me that I could come by the next day. Not sure why I did, but in wanting to feel good and make a good impression, I wore a full black skirt, light blue button blouse, low heels and my sexiest underwear. When I arrived, he reached out, held both my hands, welcomed me with a nice big smile and then invited me up to his office to look at some catalogues books. The upstairs office looked down on the workshop through large windows and I could see his men working on various pieces of furniture down below.

Art sat me down on a sofa at a table with several catalogues and told me to look through them to get ideas for what I might like for my chairs. He also offered me a glass of wine which I readily accepted. He was busy at his nearby desk and occasionally would leave to go down stairs. Each time he passed, he asked how I was doing and made sure that my glass was refilled. After a while he came and sat next to me to see if I had come up with any ideas. The catalogues were full of wonderful materials and colors but I had a hard time picking out anything that seemed right. Art, suggested I take a break and we began to chat. As we talked, he genuinely seemed interested in me and as I became more comfortable with him, I openly replied when he asked questions about my life and family.

Maybe I revealed too much because between the wine and his charming demeanor, I was not surprised when he moved closer and put his arm around me. As we continued to talk, his other hand was gently caressing my thigh just above my knee. After a while, there was a long pause in our conversation and he reached up and touched my face telling me how beautiful I was. I'm used to hearing compliments but somehow, this seemed to be a lot more. I watched his supple lips move as he showered me with more compliments, captivated by some invisible magnetism. Pulling me closer, he gave me a small kiss on the lips. There was no resistance on my part and I welcomed the second kiss. In a split second, we were deeply kissing, with open mouths and tongues. I was like a teenager with my arms around his neck, hungrily kissing him. I felt one hand move up between my legs and the other squeezing a breast. At that moment, I didn't care, kissing him made me feel warm and accepted, I didn't want to lose the feeling.

A bell went off and I immediately sat up. Art said it was probably just a delivery and that his guys would take care of it. It momentarily brought me back to reality and I told him I was worried about what we were doing and getting caught. Art, in his calm manner, laughed and told me get up to check the windows and lock the door, which I did. I could feel his eyes as he watched me go and come back. When I walked to him on the sofa, he moved the table aside and told me to stop. He asked me to turn around a few times and gave me more compliments as I did, telling me how good and sexy I looked. Then, as I stood there in front of him, he told me to take off my top. I guess I hesitated so he repeated his request, saying that, I shouldn't be embarrassed hiding my best features. Somehow, I wanted to please him and began to unbutton my blouse. At the moment, I don't remember feeling ashamed but actually feeling good about myself and proud that he wanted to see more of me.

With my blouse on the floor, he motioned me closer and reached up to take my breasts in his hands. His hands felt very warm and sensitive as they wonderfully caressed my covered breasts. Standing there as he touched me through my lacy bra, I felt very womanly, hard to describe but a feeling of being appreciated and desirable overcame me. It had been a long time since any man, including my own husband, had touched or talked to me in such a loving manner. When his fingers slowly began exploring the bare skin above and under my breasts and into the top of my bra, I felt my knees go weak. Art pulled me down next to him and we began to kiss again. He knew by then I was enamored with his touch, kisses and voice. My bra soon came off and his mouth covered my hard nipples making me moan with incredible pleasure.

As we kissed, Art took one of my hands in with his and put in on his crotch. Automatically, I pushed down and felt his bulging manhood underneath. With my hand I began to squeeze and fondle him as he was doing the same to my tits. He began whispering in my ear, telling me how good it felt and to squeeze harder. He told me that he needed much more and that I knew what to do; as he spoke, he unzipped his pants and half pushed me off of the sofa. I know what a man enjoys from a woman, so here I was on my knees, looking up at Art, the first black man I had ever been with, staring at his unzipped pants and a large bulge showing in his underwear. My instinct to please took over and I pulled down his slacks and his black shorts to reveal a beautifully shaped, half hard black cock. It wasn't immense but was thick and dripping from the head. I licked it, tasking his precum, then proceeded to take it into my mouth. It was a powerful feeling, licking, tasting and sucking on this magnificent man, the pleasure it gave me was both an emotional and well as a physically stimulating sensation. I could feel moisture filling my panties as I tried to take as much of him as I could. Other cocks were enjoyable but this one seemed to energize me, giving me a strong feeling of being worthy and totally appreciated.

When Art began to moan more loudly, I knew he was close to cumming. So did he, he pulled me up and in one rough motion, pushed be down on the sofa, pulled off my panties and opened my legs. He knelt over me holding his cock then slowly eased it into my pussy. He was slow and deliberate, each stroke a little deeper until I could feel the whole of him deliciously filling me. He never stopped complimenting me, and even now as he fucked me, he praised me for my superb mouth and my wonderful inviting pussy. Soon, the pace of his thrusts became harder and faster, and then he exploded. It was a glorious feeling that made me happy and elated, knowing that one of my fantasies had come true and was even more I could have imagined. To me, feeling a man's climax is an incredibly beautiful experience. We stayed motionless for a long time and when he got up, I just laid there, legs askew, wetness on me everywhere, trying to catch my breath and take in the glorious feelings that I had just had. I felt myself smiling.

Art wasn't a black man to me any longer but the wonderful and delightful man that I had been needing all along. His cock, as important now to me as it was to him, is just one of part of him that I adored. I watched him put himself back together then he helped me up. I was still weak kneed but he managed to get my blouse back on and tucked into my skirt. We talked for a while until we figured it was probably time for me to go. He walked me down the stairs, to my car, gave me a long deep kiss and we said our goodbyes. On the way home, I realized that I had left my under things and might need an excuse for not having any when I got home. I smiled at myself knowing that I would most certainly see him again.