The Lady Golfer

After that weekend we spent about two or three nights a week together, depending upon my shift pattern. We would have spent more but I had a house that wasn't going to do itself up, although I started to resent the time I spent there plastering or decorating. We went to see my parents and they were lovely. At least, my mum was. Dad was a bit cool but mum said afterwards: 'That's because he wants some more grandchildren,' My elder brother and sister already had five, between them. 'I told him not to be so selfish. It's obvious you're both happy with each other.'

Sandra's parents were less forthcoming when we visited them one Sunday afternoon. They lived in a huge farmhouse a few miles outside Worcester. There was a new Range Rover and a Bentley parked on the extensive gravel drive and everything about the place said "money". The Roberts were in their late seventies but fit and healthy. Sandra's mum was ok, a bit distant but not unwelcoming; Mr Roberts was definitely suspicious of a young man who seemed to have hitched a ride with his only daughter.

'That went well,' I commented as we drove away.

'Oh he'll come round. Don't worry about it.'

'What do you want to do now?' I asked as we headed home. 'Do you want to stop for dinner on the way?'

'No,' she said, decisively. 'I want you to take me to bed and go down on me.'

Sandra never used expletives, not the bad ones anyway; this was about as dirty as her talk got, so I was immediately aroused. Besides, I loved performing cunnilingus on her, loved the sight of her glorious red bush and light brown cunt lips. Loved the taste of her juices. She'd said once that her husband had refused to lick her out, stating that she "smelt horrible down there, like all red heads". It was an awful thing to say and totally untrue. Sandra's scent was strong but highly arousing and I loved it. I was only just beginning to realise how much trauma she had suffered at his hands.

Back home I wasted no time in hustling her up the stairs to her bedroom and helping her to undress. When she was naked I sat her in the big, upholstered chair in the bay window and spread her legs over the arms. Kneeling on the carpet I lowered my face to her exposed pussy. God I loved eating out her snatch. Licking, smelling, sucking, tasting, running my hands over the soft skin of her inner thighs as I tongued her clit and lapped up her musky secretions. Except for when she sat astride me, she rarely had an orgasm during intercourse but when I used my tongue or fingers she came like an express train. Now, with my tongue flicking over her clit and two of my fingers deep in her vagina, she gave a low moan and threw her head back as the sensations mounted. Taking my sopping fingers out of her I slid my middle finger along her perineum to her little puckered anus. I'd never tried any anal play with Sandra before so I was expecting her to flinch or tell me to stop or something. But my timing was perfect: as her climax hit I slid my finger in about an inch and felt the sphincter spasm around the tip as the orgasmic wave broke over her and crashed through her cortex.

When she'd stopped gasping I helped her up and steered her to the bed where she lay stunned, watching me undress. I crawled onto the bed and was about to mount her when she pushed me down, reaching for my erection. I was iron-hard and leaking fluid. Sandra scooped her hair behind her ear so that I could see her mouth and then she took me inside her and sucked greedily at my glans and upper shaft, one hand gently masturbating me. The feel of her lips around my prick was heavenly. Light, but firm, her tongue licking the sensitive area and probing my urethra. Until I'd met Sandra I'd never really got blowjobs, never really enjoyed them. This was in a different category and I wasn't going to last long. Generally, as I approached a climax, I would gently disengage her, now when I tried she hung on and waved me down; she wanted me to ejaculate in her mouth.

'I'm coming,' I gasped, by way of a warning. Sandra fastened on and sucked harder and I shot my spunk into her mouth and throat, a wave of pure pleasure and love enveloping me. Then she surprised me again by licking my cock clean and finally giving me a sticky, salty kiss.

We lay together as my cock softened and I stroked her lovely body, a tender thank you for the pleasure she had given me.

'You touched my bottom,' she said, suddenly.

'You didn't like it?' I asked.

'You've never done it before.'

'No, I didn't know if you liked it.'

'I don't know,' she said, quietly. 'Look, Michael, I was going to talk to you about it but the right moment never came up.'

'Talk to me about... about your bottom?' I asked, mystified.

'Yes.' She raised herself on one elbow and looked at me. 'Have you done it before? Anal sex, I mean.'

'Yes,' I admitted, mildly embarrassed.

'And did you enjoy it?'

'Yes.'

'My ex-husband wanted to do it. And I never let him. Ever. It was about the only time I stood up to him and it gave me a little bit of control in my marriage. Once he nearly forced himself on me but I cried and he backed off.' She paused. 'I'm sorry if this is too much gory detail.'

I was wondering where this conversation was leading, although I guess I had some idea. 'No, of course not, Sandra. You can talk to me about anything, you know that.'

'Yes,' she smiled at me. 'I know I can. The thing is my ex-husband stole so many years of my life that I can never have back. But that's one thing he never had. One thing that I can give you, because I know you'll be gentle and you won't hurt me.'

'Are you sure?' I said, hardly believing what I was hearing.

'Yes, Michael, I'm sure.' She looked down at me. 'I love you, you know.'

'I love you too,' I said, my voice cracking. 'Very much.' And then we were both crying and holding each other and it felt as though we'd broken through some barrier into an even better paradise than the one we'd been in.

'You don't... we don't have to do it you know,' I said.

'I want to, even if it's only once. I want to know that I gave the man I love something that that bastard never had and never will have!'

Things were subtly different after that afternoon when Sandra said she loved me and I said I loved her. We started talking about a future together and what that might look like. We discussed the age gap and concluded that twenty-two years was surmountable. We were happy together. And we didn't discuss anal sex.

So it came as a bit of a surprise one Tuesday afternoon a couple of weeks later, when we'd had a very satisfactory round of golf and were finishing lunch in the clubhouse, when Sandra raised the subject, with lowered voice and looking round to see if there was anybody in earshot.

'You know we talked about...' she dropped her voice to a whisper, 'anal sex.' I nodded. I'd been looking out of the window, watching players tee off on the Lakes course. Now I was all ears. Sandra blushed. 'I bought some lubrication from the chemist yesterday. I wondered whether you'd like to try it out... Maybe this afternoon. It's ok if you don't want to,' she added hurriedly.

'This afternoon sounds fine,' I said, my stomach deliquescing gently. 'Or if you want to be a bit more spontaneous...'

Sandra smiled. 'Yes, it is a bit clinical: fifteen-thirty this afternoon, sharp: anal intercourse.' We laughed and a couple nearby looked over at us.

'Bet they can't guess what we're discussing,' I said.

'I should hope not!' replied Sandra, blushing more deeply.

As soon as we got back to Sandra's house I put my arms around her and kissed her. 'I love you, Sandra,' I whispered in her ear.

'You'd better take me to bed then.'

Upstairs we undressed and crawled onto the bed and lay together kissing and stroking each other. It had been warm out on the golf course and I could smell perspiration on both our bodies. Perversely, it turned me on; I wanted to smell Sandra's cunt, bury my face in her sweaty labia. She didn't resist as I parted her legs and knelt down, pushing my nose into her russet bush and inhaling deeply. 'God you smell sexy,' I murmured. I pushed my tongue between her outer lips, seeking the entrance to her vagina. She was already wet, already aroused and the musky smell of her juices mingled with the sweaty odour of her thighs. I wanted it all: taste and smell. I licked my finger and sought her anus, stroking the little pucker gently, smearing my saliva over its crinkled surface and, as I teased her with my finger, I sucked her labia into my mouth and licked her cunt hole, pushing my tongue in, licking upwards to her clit, my finger pressing gently against her sphincter.

'Use the lubrication,' she said, tightly, passing me a tube of jelly.

I squeezed a generous blob onto my finger and smeared it around her pucker. Leaning down to lick her out again I slid my finger into her rectum, slowly and gently. Sandra gave a low groan and arched her back as my finger went in easily to the third knuckle.

'Does that feel alright?' I asked, between slurps.

'Mmm,' she replied ambiguously.

I lapped at her pussy, tasting her juices, smelling her heavy scent, my finger in her arse, the sphincter tight around it. 'Stop,' she said, suddenly. 'I don't want to come yet.' I knelt up, my face slick with her secretions. Sandra rolled over onto her stomach, her legs parted, right arm beneath her, the other cradling her head. 'Now,' she said, quietly but firmly.

Squeezing another big gob of the sticky lubricant onto my finger I worked it into her, feeling little resistance to my single finger. There was more resistance when I inserted two; Sandra tensed then forced herself to relax and my fingers slid in. 'Am I hurting you?' I asked with a tinge of guilt. Should I be preparing to sodomize the woman I loved? The small voice of dissent was shouted down by my extreme arousal, my lust to possess her fully. And, I thought fleetingly, she had insisted.

'No,' she said. 'That's fine.' Taking my fingers out of her rectum I lubricated my steel-hard cock, smearing jelly over my swollen, purple glans. It looked very big to be going in such a small hole.

I knelt between her legs again and lowered myself down, supported by one arm. The other hand gripped my slimy shaft, guiding it to her anus, the final intimacy. My glans touched up against her pucker and she flinched. 'I'll go very slowly. Stop me if it hurts.' I pushed gently and nothing happened. I pushed a bit harder, worried that I'd hurt Sandra but she was silent. 'You're very tight,' I told her.

'I think you'll have to push a bit harder,' she replied. I pushed harder and felt the shaft of my cock flex. 'Harder,' she said, tensely. I pushed hard and her sphincter opened reluctantly to accommodate me, stretching obscenely to take the thickest part of my penis. Sandra gasped and the fingers of her left hand clutched the duvet, knuckles white. Then I was in and her muscle was contracting around my shaft and I saw her shoulders relax. I also saw that the muscles of her right shoulder were flexing rhythmically and I realised that she was masturbating and I guessed she was doing it to offset the pain of my anal invasion.

I lowered myself carefully, releasing the grip on my shaft as it slid in, to the hilt. God it felt good! Hot and soft and enveloping, tightly gripped around the base of my cock by her anal sphincter. 'Is that ok?' I asked.

'It's fine, Michael. She sounded more relaxed now and I could feel the tiny movements as she masturbated. 'Go gently, at first,' she added. I flexed my hips, withdrawing slowly, feeling the suction of her arse around my cock. Then I pushed in again and out, and in. Each stroke longer than the last but taking care not to go too far and pop out.

It was heaven! Utterly erotic, utterly naughty and, at the same time, the most intimate of acts and with the lady that I loved. I got into a rhythm, coming out four or five inches and sliding back in until my pelvis slapped into her buttocks. I didn't need to go very fast; the sensations were already exquisite and I wanted this to last a bit longer.

As I fucked Sandra's arse I looked down at her lovely body, face down underneath me, her Titian hair cascading over her arm. The desire I felt for her and the love that had followed mingled to take me to a new plane of sensation and wellbeing. And inevitably I felt the tingle in my balls that heralded an approaching climax that I couldn't hold back.

'Oh God Sandra, I'm coming.'

'Yes,' she hissed, 'come inside me.' Her hand was working furiously beneath her and I could feel the movement through the walls of her rectum. My climax hit me and I cried out as wave after wave of utter pleasure crashed through me and I pumped my sperm into my lover's anus.

As my orgasm subsided I started to gently withdraw. 'No,' said Sandra, urgently, 'stay inside me.' Then she was coming, feet beating against the bed, tears rolling down her cheeks: 'Oh God, oh God, oh God!'

Afterwards she lay very still and, as my penis softened, I slid gently and slowly out of her, looking anxiously at my cock for traces of excrement, but there were none. I rolled onto my back and Sandra roused herself lethargically and came into my arms and we lay for a long time saying nothing, me stroking her hair and shoulder and kissing the top of her head. 'How was it for you?' I asked eventually, aware that my question was the ultimate cliché but anxious to know.

Sandra appeared to consider my question. 'Better than I thought it would be,' she said at length. 'Much better if I'm truthful. Right at the end, as I was getting close to coming, I really started to enjoy it.' She looked up at me with an impish grin. 'One day I want you to tie me down on the bed, really tightly. Then you can do whatever you want to me.'

A bit later Sandra got up and ran a bath and we sat in the hot, scented water and kissed and touched and said we loved each other and life was very good. 'Who'd have thought when we met at the first tee that we'd end up here?' I mused, kissing her red-brown tresses.

'Yes,' said Sandra, suddenly subdued. 'Who'd have thought that a young, fit, clever man like you would ever fall for me?' She gulped suddenly and I drew her to me.

'Hey, why the sadness?'

A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away. 'Insecurity, I suppose. I look in the mirror and I wonder what you see in me.'

Epilogue

I had been aware that there was something Sandra wasn't talking about, something that was upsetting her. I did what I could to try to assuage her fears and in the end I decided that proposing marriage to her would be the clearest signal of my feelings for her. To my surprise she turned me down, saying that one day, inevitably, I would tire of her or stop finding her body sexy and she didn't want me to be shackled into a relationship I didn't want.

Well, ten years on we are still together. I finished doing up my house in Baythorpe then I sold it and we used some of the money to bring Sandra's house into the twenty-first century: a new kitchen and bathroom (with a corner bath) and double-glazing. My parents visit quite a bit and they've grown to love Sandra almost as much as me; I often catch dad staring at her arse when he thinks no one's watching. Sandra's parents were a bit more difficult, especially her dad. Then one day he and I went to the pub before Sunday lunch and we ended up getting pissed together and finding out we'd got quite a few interests in common like football and astronomy. He passed away a few years ago but Sandra's mum is still around and there's talk of her coming to live with us. Deep joy!

I'm forty now and pushing for the station manager's job. Sandra's sixty-two and has retired. We are very happy together and our sex life is amazing; Sandra left her insecurity behind years ago, together with any residual inhibitions she may have had. Now, as well as playing golf together most days, we enjoy a full range of sexual activities including bondage, anal, dressing up... You name it!

One day, probably when I'm in my late fifties or early sixties, we won't be able to do these things together anymore, although I will still only be in late middle age. This, I suppose, is the price that we have to pay for our May and September love affair. But I love Sandra to distraction and it's a price well worth paying!

The End