The Lingerie Catalog

I re-entered the apartment to hear "Chances Are" wafting from the speakers.

I was worried that LuAnn's idea of romance would make me crack up or get annoyed. Once we got started, however, I enjoyed helping her to feel first comfortable and safe, and then aroused and eager. In a way, I guided her through what so many women her age had done so many years earlier, letting pleasure be an end in itself, and receiving it as well as giving it.

We slow-danced to the dulcet tones of an African American man who eventually came out as bisexual.

My hand on her back moved slowly, now touching fabric, now skin. Not forcing anything. My desire for her was increasing, more than I thought it might, yet I remained in the role of helper, giving her the opportunity to make choices, rather than cook up excuses for what she felt.

"I, I'd like to put my hand on your, your bottom," she said.

I nuzzled her neck and said, "You may."

She squeezed my rump. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"I, I'd like you to touch me more too," she whispered.

I slowly let the hand on her back move downward, never letting the contact break. My hand curled over and around a buttock and, with fingers spread, squeezed.

"Ohhhhh Ronnie!" she said. There was a sob, but then she pressed on. "We don't have to worry any more, do we? We can make love, can't we?"

I have to admit this. The feel of her doughy butt did nothing for me. I centered my attention on what her hand was doing.

This inspired my prick to start thickening, and press the inside of her hip.

She muffled a laugh. She looked at me and said, "Touch me more, Ronnie. With your hands, too."

We almost fell over laughing.

Still squeezing her butt, I brought my other hand out of dance posture, from her hand to her chest.

"Can I keep my bra on?" she whispered.

I needed to take a breath before saying, "If that's important to you."

She looked me in the eyes. "What's important to you?"

I fought a whine impulse. After a moment I said, "I can't use the word 'important' for this. I want to feel and kiss and love your breasts."

She swayed, slow-dancing in silence, She held my hand against her right breast. "They were so beautiful, once," she said.

"They still—"

"Hush," she said, pressing my hand in deeper.

My cock twitched against her.

"Hold on, big fella," she said, taking her hand from my buttock and patting the fabric near my dick.

She shivered, eyes closed. "Now, Ronnie, it's important to me, for you to love my breasts, any way you like."

She leaned up and kissed me, moving her hands behind her back.

She unhooked her bra. She sleeve-yanked away the top of her dress, letting the lacy blue bra fall with it.

Her large, blue-veined, wrinkled breasts sagged down her rib cage.

I cupped them in both hands. Her nipples stiffened against my palms. I almost came.

Half crouching, I brought my face to her bosom. Her heat filled my nose with ill-chosen perfume. I didn't care, I smeared my mouth over as much of her breasts as I could.

"Ahhhhhh!" she cried.

"You see, Lu?" I said as I came up for air. "There's no fault in this. We're lovers, Lu, and this is what we do. We love!" I embraced her and leaned a thigh between her legs.

Louder: "AHHHHHHHH!"

I shoved her dress down her hips, maybe tearing it. As I got it to her feet she worked at heel-sliding out of her shoes.

Mr. Mathis informed us that he was too misty, and too much in love.

I got her to the sofa and sat her down. She tried to reach my clothes, but couldn't get hold of shirt buttons and pants zipper, because I took charge. I pulled off her tight opaque panty hose, and her panties. I spread her legs, and knelt between them.

Then, close to jizzing my shorts and not caring, I put my hands on her tits and my mouth on her pussy.

"Ohhh noo," she moaned. Clearly she didn't think 'whatever you're going to do to me' included cunnilingus. She set one hand on one of my tit-fondlers, and the other on my head. "We shouldn't do this. It's...it's dirty."

"You want me to stop?" I growled over her labia.

"No, no." A sob. After a moment she added, "But then I should do it too." She pushed me so she could sit up straight. She grabbed my shirt as she stood us up, and jerkily unbuttoned it.

She asked, "Is there a way we can do, like that, together?"

"There sure is," I said, "I'll—"

"I can take you!" she said wildly, unzipping my fly. "I can make you naked!" She laughed as she hauled down my pants. "That's it, you're my Valentine candy!" Despite these outbursts, she drew back when she exposed my junk.

Warily, I guided her to a sixty-nine on the rug, with me on my back and her on all fours above me.

I then had cause to wonder if she had ever blown a man. She certainly wasn't good at it. I could easily believe that Hal Fenton was an absolute bastard, but I might have learned then about one of his steps along the way.

As for what LuAnn did for me right then, it led to the ideal outcome: It felt good (given all the times when my prick had been nowhere but my hand), and I didn't cum.

She did cum, from a combination of pussy lapping and nipple stroking. My licks along and around her clitty prompted almost mournful moans, which then rose in pitch and frequency. She then grunted for a long time, her thighs flexing against my sides. Then she flopped prone on my crotch and legs.

"Oh Ronnie Ronnie," she rasped. "That shouldn't feel so good. It's wrong."

I fondly fondled both of her doughy buttocks. Wondering if I was approaching blue balls, I said, "LuAnn, I invite you to my bed. I hope we can find something that you think should feel good."

I introduced her to his-and-hers lube, desensitizing me and stimulating her. Her eyes popped as I applied hers. "But I already felt...ooooh...again?"

I stretched out on my back. "Better living through chemistry. Now please be my cowgirl."

Desensitizing? Really? I held back for maybe five minutes while she treated me like a mechanical bull. Her hair jounced wildly, spreading through more space than even her flapping tits. Fingers that she'd wanted people to think of as dainty clutched my side ribs and left bruises. Her vagina might now be dry on its own, but it sure was strong, gripping my shaft and pouring heat into it.

I howled and started spewing, and she yelled.

I groaned and stopped spewing, and she kept riding. "More, Ronnie! Oh please, more!"

I don't know if this is how it works, but maybe the slow-arriving blood flow also means that it's slow to depart. The tank was empty but the nozzle held its shape a while longer. When LuAnn finally blared out a coloratura voice exercise, and slumped onto me with a wheeze, I felt pain only around three vertebrae.

A minute or two later she smiled contentedly and poked her nose into my ear. "Not bad for an old man."

"So all this time," I said as breath became available, "You've been this enthusiastic?"

"Certainly not," she said huffily. "As a dutiful wife I lay on my back and let the man take what he wanted. But you're so depraved, putting your face in my, down there, and telling me to get on top, why, you're not following the rules, so why should I?" She was new to self-mockery, so it was no surprise that she couldn't keep a straight face.

I looked at her soberly. "Lu, did you expect this to happen?"

"No. I hoped. And I wanted to understand about the hotel bar. You're still handsome, so I gave it a try." She stroked my hair. "And then we talked. And I fell for you. Hard. Now I want more than some man I can lead around. We both have things wrong with us, and I hope we can be right for each other."

"Damn," I said. "Maybe you are somebody new."

"I don't know who I am. For a long time I tried to be what I thought I should be. I guess that didn't work."

Still having trouble putting all of these strange pieces together, I asked, "Lu, what do you really, truly think of me?"

"I think you're a man who could be wonderful, if someone gives you a chance. I want to give you every reason to be wonderful." Her smile grew impish. "And I sure don't want a sperm bank."

"Niiiiice," I said, grinning.

"So," she said briskly, centering to put her face above mine, "when can we start on the details of becoming one household?"

Eloquently I replied, "Ehhhh—what?"

"Ronnie, we should do this now, long before we need to do it. It's not just to avoid dying alone. I'm tired of living alone. And it's practical for two people like us to live together. Marriage has tax and insurance advantages, but like you once said, it's a new century, so maybe we could do things differently. As we go down the slippery slope, we'll be able to help each other through downsizing, assisted living, and what lies beyond. Maybe one of us will stay healthy if the other doesn't."

This glimpse behind her helpless/clueless act surprised me. "You've given this a lot of thought."

"Now this seems possible. I can be your woman, and you can be my man."

Her breasts felt so warm, spread across my chest. One of many sensations I hadn't felt in forever, given to me by a woman I had underestimated. "Clearly you've remembered," I said, "the best time to try to convince a man of something."

She beamed. "So I can still be a conniving bitch! Hurray!"

"Well, if you can put up with my delusions of masculinity, you deserve them."

"Pretty soon I'll want to get rid of the mess your weenie put inside me, but I can keep batting my lashes until you give in."

Somehow I didn't crack up from 'weenie.' I took her face in my hands, and leaned up to kiss her, soft and slow. After a moment she let in my tongue, and after another she sent through her own.

When I pulled back I said, "Lu, repeat after me."

"All right."

"Orgasm."

She winced, but quietly said "Orgasm."

"I like having orgasms."

She looked away. "I like having orgasms."

"Whenever Ronnie has an orgasm with me, Ronnie should get me an orgasm too."

"Is that realistic, at our age?"

"That wasn't a repeat."

"I can't remember it now."

"Do the best you can."

She took a deep breath, rose up slightly, then declared, "Ronnie should give me orgasms! Even if they're not the ones God intended!"

I laughed, and hugged her close. "God gave us these bodies," I said, "so what was intended—"

"Shut up, you nasty libertine," she said. "After we die together, you can go to Hell by yourself."

"I will so settle for that."

"Let's take a bath," she said. "Maybe it won't be naughty. Being old has advantages."

I just smiled. I could still do plenty to her in a bathtub. But it was probably best to let my rest-of-life hookup think she was in charge. For now.

As she rose up, she glanced at the nightstand. She reached over and picked something up.

The lingerie catalog.

"Ronnie..." she said, looking at me in obvious mischief. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

I wondered, Is she just thinking I'm a naughty boy, or is she taking this all the way to crossdressing?

Come on, this is LuAnn, a babe in the woods.

Whom I underestimated.

"That got here a few days ago," I said. "I admit, it caught my attention."

"All the way to your bedroom." She scooched her knees in and sat upright, still enclosing my limp cock. The nude woman thumbed a few pages, and thus blocked my view of her boobs. "Would you like to see me in something like this?"

I took the catalog away and tossed it to the floor. Hello again, cute veins, delightful wrinkles "No thanks. I now have a better way to celebrate horny adult Valentine's Day." I leaned up, gathered her droopy tits, and brought them to my mouth.

The weenie firmed up.

The bath would have to wait.