The Meet Up

Carol peered closely into the mirror checking her complexion. She was experimenting with a new line of cosmetics and was extremely pleased with the result. Age lines had disappeared and the new lipstick delighted her; yes, Carol was pleased with her new face. She switched attention onto her breasts and the racy new bra she was wearing. It provided a nice cleavage alright, but nothing could disguise her sagging tits once the cleavage provider had been removed. She went through the motions of unclipping the green satin and black lace bra, and sliding it down her arms to check the immediate effect and was pleasantly surprised at the result. Yes, her tits flopped a little but nothing dramatic because her dark brown areolae and nipples instantly took the eye to lessen any sudden introduction sagging flesh.

Next, Carol examined the effect of the glossy grey nylons on her legs attached to a multiple strap suspender belt that matched the bra. The deep waisted garment was practically a waspie and had a secondary effect of hiding any loose flesh around her waist. Carol thought her legs were still shapely and free of prominent veins, but any blemishes she did carry would be hidden by the nylons. She stepped into black patent stilettos and admired her full length reflection. The verdict... very cute, not bad for a woman approaching her sixty-third birthday!

Then with everything looking good, Carol couldn't resist stepping into a green satin dress she intended to wear for her date. She struggled with the tiny zip fastener at the back unable to close it completely, but it didn't matter, the overall effect pleased her greatly, even better with clothes on, she thought.

Just then the doorbell chimed. Carol looked out of her bedroom window but there was no car in the road. So, assuming it was a neighbour calling she went to answer the door, forgetting her dress was only zipped half way.................

...................................... The driveway was devoid of motor vehicles, so I knew Donny was out or at work. I was home for a month's leave from the oil fields of Kazakhstan and looking for some company, but all the lads I'd grew up with had jobs, which meant only the weekends free for a real drink and catch-up. But there was one lad I hadn't caught up with yet, Donny, so I decided to call at his home and see how he was fixed for a night out. The door was opened by Donny's mother.

"Hello, Mrs Bunting," I said. "I don't suppose Donny's at home?"

"Why it's Peter! I haven't seen you for ages, must be getting on for two years." She said."Don't stand there, come on in." I followed her down the hall and into the lounge. "No, Donny's not here at the moment. He's away on a training course up in Scotland."

"That's a pity. I was hoping he'd be around for a few drinks."

"No, he won't be back for a couple of weeks. I'm afraid you're out of luck. But tell me, what are you doing these days? Donny mentioned you were abroad somewhere remote, I think." I began to tell Mrs Bunting about my job, but she stopped me. "Look, Peter, it's such a lovely surprise seeing you and I haven't any plans for this evening, so why not stop for a while and have a drink with me instead. You can tell me all your news and we can reminisce about the old days when Donny used to bring you and the other boys around for card sessions. Remember, I used to cook beefburgers and chips for you all. And, call me Carol, not Mrs Bunting. We're all adults now."

I thanked her and said I'd love to stop and chat for a while. But I noted the stylish green dress she was wearing and wondered whether she had intended to go out and my unexpected visit had messed up her arrangements.

"Are you sure I haven't spoilt your plans for this evening, Carol?" I enquired waving a hand to indicate her dress.

"Absolutely sure. I was just seeing if I could fit into this for a works shindig coming up shortly. I've been dieting and managed to lose weight." Dee twirled around and the skirt flared out giving me the briefest glimpse of black stocking tops enhancing her nice shapely legs. "What do you think, Peter, would you ask me to dance?"

"Definitely." I answered noticing the green dress wasn't zipped all the way to the top and showing her black bra straps.

"I think I can get away with it. What do you think, Peter? Does it look OK on me?"

"You look terrific, Carol, you'll be a sensation."

"Thank you, young man. And what's your opinion of my make-up? I was experimenting trying to complement the dress with a new lipstick colour."

"Your make-up looks perfect, too, that bright red lipstick is a good choice."

Carol indicated that I should sit.

"I was thinking the same. Don't usually use such a bright colour but if you like it, I'll use it. Now, what would you like to drink? Beer, spirits or a cuppa?"

"Whatever you're having will be fine." I replied.

Suddenly, I was pleased I'd thought about visiting Donny and even more pleased that he wasn't at home, because I was rapidly warming to Carol, again! I say again because a few years ago I spent a lot of time with Donny in this house and when he wasn't around I'd hang around his mum pestering her to teach me to dance ballroom style, and for a very good reason. One, I'd twigged the fact that being able to dance got you off to a good start with the girls. And two, I got to hold Carol close. However, on one occasion during a lesson my cock stiffened up due to our proximity and the feel of Carol's naked arms, to say nothing of her intoxicating perfume taking its toll on my adolescent senses, and when my erection brushed against her groin it felt so wonderful I pressed it harder.

I recall Carol making a snap reference to its size and hardness saying we shouldn't be doing that sort of thing, but she didn't attempt to put any distance between us, not for a minute or so anyway and when the music died away we stood there looking at one another. Being as tall as Carol our eyes were level, and as we gazed at one another I felt the urge to kiss her lips. It was a reflexive instinct on my part and I leaned forward in the hope that Carol would show her consent and meet my lips. But just as I thought she was about to acquiesce, Carol stopped me saying we'd gone far enough.

Carol returned carrying two glasses of wine, which she set on the coffee table between us. She sat opposite and crossed her legs to the accompaniment of swishing nylon and looking every inch a sexy mature woman in her green satin dress; I wondered whether she remembered the time my erection rubbed against her. There was an amusing irony to my speculation insofar as I felt myself stiffening at the recollection of that incident, and by the time she'd re-crossed her legs against a further background of rustling satin and abrading nylon mesh, I was hard and practically slavering over her nylon covered legs.

We chatted about my work, what Donny was doing and her office job at a local supermarket. We drank the wine and Carol fetched the bottle to top up our glasses. The conversation got around to more mundane matters and eventually arrived at the, do you remember, stage. My eyes flitted constantly from her legs and knees up to her breasts - wondering what they looked like in the black bra - before returning in the opposite direction, my cock pulsing with the anticipation of seeing more stocking top. I tried to figure out how old she was, but decided it was irrelevant, as her amazing sexual maturity outweighed any difference in age. I wanted to learn more about Carol's social life and the red high-heeled shoe dangling from her foot gave me a way in.

"Those red shoes and your lipstick look like a perfect match, Carol."

"Thank you, they're supposed to be. I'm hoping to make an impression on someone." She replied with a slight pout of her lips.

Then came the moment that transformed our relationship. Carol accidentally spilled some of the wine from her overfilled glass down the skirt of the green satin dress. Distraught, she leapt to her feet.

"Oh no! You clumsy mare!" Carol admonished herself dabbing at the red stain but only managing to make it worse. I rushed over with my handkerchief and tried to help. "This is ruined now and it's the only decent evening dress I've got. I'd better take it off and put it to soak." Then she remembered the stuck zip. "Fuck, the fastener is stuck. Give me a hand, Peter." Carol turned her back to me and I investigated the problem.

"There seems to be a thread caught in the teeth. Hold still I'll yank it out." With the problem solved I took the liberty of drawing the zip down to her waist exposing her back totally. Carol instantly slipped out of the dress revealing a classy lingerie set of black lace and green satin, complete with nylons and suspenders. My jaw dropped and my mouth opened in surprise, but before I'd had chance to comment, she'd fled upstairs carrying her dress.

"Fucking hell!" I said quietly finishing my wine and pouring another -- I needed it. I repeated my expletive as the image of Carol in her lingerie whirled around my mind. She looked stunning and sexy and oh so fuckable! My God, what am I thinking, I wanted to fuck this woman, however old she was, not just brush my erection against her groin! I slumped onto the sofa adjusting my erection, just as Carol came back.

"Hello, still got difficulty with your groin." She remarked an obvious reference to that earlier occasion. Carol was now wearing a knee length peignoir through which her lingerie was still visible. "The only thing I could do was put it in cold water in the bath and hope for the best. I really can't afford a new one."

As Carol was bemoaning her luck a thought suddenly struck me, an idea that could possibly ingratiate me with Carol

"Tell you what, Carol. Why don't you get some clothes on and we'll go shopping for a new dress."

"But, I've told you I can't afford one!"

"I know, but will you allow me to buy it? After all, if I hadn't called around the accident wouldn't have happened. And besides, I would really like to." My tone was pleading.

Carol still objected, but I persevered with my offer and eventually she relented.

"OK, but I will pay you back when I can." She sounded happy about the arrangement. "I'd better get out of this new underwear too, it still has the price tags on and I don't want to picked up for shoplifting! We both laughed, but as we did my mind was working on ways to get Carol into bed with me.

The shopping expedition was a huge success. After I'd convinced her that for me money was no object -- which it wasn't -- I managed to persuade her to buy two dresses, some more lingerie, which was a triumph on my part and very enlightening as she relied on my choice and taste; and some shoes. I was hoping it would be money well spent in my pursuit of Carol's favours. We drew some inquisitive looks from the sales staff in each store we visited, as they wondered what our relationship was. There were nudges and winks from the younger assistants, but one of the older staff who was probably in her fifties went out of her way to be discreet and helpful in assuring Carol she had just the figure for any lingerie I suggested. I got the impression that if Carol wasn't present, the sales woman would be amenable to my advances; I made a mental note of her name.

We were carrying too many bags and boxes to feel comfortable dining in a restaurant, so on the way home in the taxi we ordered a take-away. We'd hardly got in the door when it was delivered, so the new clothes were left unpacked while we ate. After the meal and a few more glasses of vino, we both felt light headed enough to rid our inhibitions and talk openly. She admitted to not being with a man for four or five years and had reservations about her forthcoming date, and whether he would expect her to go to bed with him. I said I couldn't advise her one way or the other, but I would like to see her try the new dresses on once more... I was itching for some action.

Carol took my hand and pulled me to my feet.

"Come on then, young man. Follow me." I didn't think she'd acquiesce quite so easily. "Upstairs in my bedroom is the place for a private showing."

"That sounds perfect, lead on." I told her.

For the afternoon shopping trip, Carol had worn a knee-length, pleated tan coloured skirt matched with a close fitting pale lemon top. The outfit matched her maturity, but it also gave her a youthful, sexy look and as I watched the exaggerated swaying of her backside going upstairs my heart beat faster and I wondered how the rest of the evening would pan out.

"You know, Mrs Bunting." I was speaking to her backside. "You have a lovely arse. I've always thought so." I reached up and gripped her thighs. Carol stopped in her tracks and turned slightly from the waist. She spoke.

"Peter, remember that occasion when I was teaching you to dance and we got too close?"

"How could I forget. I'd never felt so excited. I was in love with you, Carol."

"I gathered that from the way your erection was pressing into me. Well, I'll be honest, Peter, I wanted that moment to go further and develop into something more risque. I wanted to see how big your cock was, and yes, I wanted to put it inside me. I really fancied your 19 year-old cock!"

Carol's admission was followed by silence, neither of us knowing what to say. We gazed at one another, our mutual desire for one another evident. I broke the moment by kissing her backside, a strange decision I realise, but it was the nearest part of her body to kiss. She bent forward to lean on the stairway accepting the crude attention of my nose forcing its way between her buttocks. Carol pushed her arse back at my face sparking the flame of desire. She wanted me, so I released my hold on her hips and pushed my hands under her skirt and along her thighs until they reached the magic spot between her legs. Carol opened her legs further as my fingers found her pussy. I raised her skirt for easier access and resumed kissing her arse, while teasing her pussy. She was wearing tights and panties, a changing room concession for the shopping trip, but this didn't deter my eagerness, as I swung her hips around so her pussy was staring me in the face.

My fingers resumed their arousal of Carol's labia making it more prominent. I obliged her anxious pussy lips as best I could through the nylon mesh and cotton panties, but sensing my deeds were being hampered I did something about obtaining an easier access. Reaching further under her skirt I found the waist band of her tights and panties and unceremoniously ripped them down and off; Carol's cunt was now mine, free of restriction and my mood was one of making her squirm with pleasure. I stood over her tights and panties in my hand while I savoured the delight of her naked pussy.

"Don't waste time looking at it, Peter, you can do all that later to your heart's content. I want you to fuck me here and now on the stairs." Carol hissed submissively. "Just fuck me, Peter! Fuck me, I don't care how gentle you are. Show me what I've been missing and fill my cunt with your cum!"

"But,"I started to say. "The bedroom's only..." I never got to finish the sentence because Carol undid the zip of her skirt, pulled it off and threw it down the stairs. Then, sitting her arse down she lifted her legs over my shoulders. I threw the tights and panties after her skirt and got rid of my trousers and shreddies; it was the moment of truth. Carol became agitated and vociferous encouraging me to open her up. I stifled her moans and groans as I shuffled into a position ready to enter her my cock in hand. Carol obliged further by lifting her arse off the stair tread ready for me.

The excitement of the past few seconds had got me leaking cum profusely and it was satisfying to note that Carol, too, was damp. So by the time my knob had mixed cum with her dewy moisture and I'd slid my helmet up and down between her labia a few times, her lips parted with ease; to be honest, I could have spunked there and then, as the sexual tension was so intense. My cock went in knob deep and I stopped, but as soon as Carol sensed my presence in her pussy she raised her arse and clung to me, forcing my cock deeper and deeper. When we both sensed it was as far as it would go, Carol began with her rhythmic action and I reciprocated, as calmly as I could, which wasn't easy!

Neither was it comfortable.

"Yes, Peter, this is what I want. Your cock feels wonderful, filling me completely." Carol murmured. "Come on, take me as hard as you can!"

My foot slipped off the stair making me swear and miss the rhythm temporarily, but Carol adjusted herself to maintain our impassioned action. She began grunting to accompany every thrust I made, occasionally whispering in a loud voice that I was fucking her just as she wanted me to; it felt wonderful having my sensitive knob grazing her vaginal tunnel.

I didn't realise how wet a woman could get when aroused, an impression confirmed by the intermittent squelching sounds our respective organs were producing. Boy, it was noisy fuck! A loud, wild noisy fuck! It seemed every alternate thrust I made brought declarations of pleasure from Carol concerning my well endowed manhood and proficiency in using it. It was good to know she was enjoying it, but did nothing to help stay the final moments, which I sensed were rapidly approaching.

"Carol, I can't hold out for much longer." I confessed.

"Don't worry, my darling, let yourself go." She gasped between thrusts. "Just fill me with cum."

"I can do that for you, you fucking bitch!"

It was the catalyst we both required. Carol suddenly went into overdrive her legs around my neck now choking the breath from me; I could barely move my cock. I had to be forceful in order to get my rhythm going again and pushed Carol's hips away. Once I had the required distance I pinned Carol's arse on the stair and started pumping my cock rapidly, only one thing on my mind -- to speed the arrival of my spunk. I couldn't give a toss about respecting Carol's needs or comfort; I needed to cum, desperately!

The urgency of my action transformed itself into energy and I concentrated that energy upon reaching the point of no return, that sublime feeling of anticipation when the dam bursts and nothing else matters except ejaculation. I thrust harder and faster, harder and faster and then the exploding fireworks of satisfaction filled my head, as I pumped and squirted filling Carol's welcoming pussy with my hot jizz.

It was a triumphant, gratifying climax made more pleasurable by Carol squeezing her vaginal muscles tight at the very moment I began squirting. She told me in no uncertain terms that she was feeling every spasm of my cock, every release of cum and that it was fucking amazing. I told her that she was fucking amazing too, as I sunk to my knees against the stair riser trying to get my breath.

"Peter, we have to do that again before you go home." Carol's voice sounded hoarse. "But when you cum I want all your fucking cum filling my mouth!" She took her legs from around my neck and struggled to her feet, her pussy staring me in the face. Then, moving her feet apart, Carol squeezed her pussy and I watched my bountiful harvest of cum begin trickling from between her tumescent labia and dribbling slowly down her inner thighs. "Yes, young man, all this lovely fucking cum goes in my mouth next time!" To emphasise her demand, Carol scooped up some of the sticky goo with her forefinger and sucked it noisily into her mouth.

Later, as we were lying in bed together talking about our action on the stairs Carol admitted. "I don't know where my language came from, but I felt no shame or embarrassment uttering it. In fact, Peter, it felt quite liberating telling you to fuck my cunt."

"You are some woman, Carol!"

"And you are some man, Peter. So why don't you fuck my cunt once more."