The Old(er) Ones Are the Best Pt. 01

My finger found her clit; it was tiny but distinct, had seemed to get a little bigger as I'd brushed across it. I'd begun to rub it; slowly and gently at first then a little faster as she'd started to squirm. The way and the where we had been sitting meant that I hadn't been able to move my hand too much but it had proved to be enough.

It had been obvious that she had been trying to keep quiet, or at least keep it down as much as possible, but she hadn't been able to hold back a constant low level groan: we were lucky, there were now only half a dozen people in the place and the nearest were a good fifteen feet away so nobody had heard her, or seen what we were doing.

I'd managed to keep up my ministrations and I'd felt her bum start to twitch and her thighs clamp together. And then suddenly her hands gripped the table edges and she'd climaxed; a restrained 'I'm sitting fully clothed in a café' climax: a climax she'd kept to herself, didn't share with anyone, a climax she'd savoured.

As I'd felt her fall into it, and I knew there was no coming back for her, I'd slowed my hand. And, once it no longer mattered whether I was there or not, I'd stopped altogether.

She'd stayed clenched tight for two or three minutes until her muscles hadn't been able to take anymore and had started to quiver. Then she'd whispered something under her breath and started to let it go, to relax her muscles. And like a voyeur I'd watched her go through her orgasm.

In an effort not to raise suspicions she'd made it a very private affair; gripping the table, her head down and her teeth clenched. It certainly hadn't been 'when Harry met Sally' but still, with Stella squirming and shaking in her seat and me very obviously with my hand between her legs, anybody walking close by would have had a very good idea of what was going on.

After another minute or two she'd sat back, opened her eyes and looked at me, let out a shuddering breath and, in a low voice.

'That was a first, where on earth did you learn that?'

I'd lent slowly forward to her ear, whispered, 'Oh, here and there, I want to undress you Stella.'

She'd stopped breathing, held it in; a moment's thought, that stretched on until she'd pulled her head back from me and her green eyes were looking into mine again.

'Where?'

I'd breathed a silent sigh of relief as my hand stroked back down to her knee.

'Will you come to my house?'

She had still been looking at me, still thinking, her face still flushed.

I'd answered her unspoken thought. 'I live about 15 minutes away, will you follow me?'

She'd thought for another minute. 'I've never done this before, will I be safe?'

'Yes Stella, you'll be safe, if, on the way there, you change your mind you can always just turn away.' I'd paused, then. 'If you have a friend you really trust you could ring them and give them my number, even my name if you want.'

She'd sat and considered that one. 'Okaaay.'

Then she'd chuckled and sat back, suddenly relaxed, that inbuilt confidence back. 'So tell me, have you ever taken a married woman back to your place before?'

I'd smiled. 'Ah, another strange woman question. Let me think. Hmmm, Have I ever met a married woman in the town centre, had coffee, put my hand up her skirt and then taken her back to my place before? No.'

'Hmmmm, so you have then.' It wasn't a question.

'Does that bother you Stella? It was always their choice and I didn't do anything other than offer them that choice.'

She'd sat there for at least a couple of minutes more staring at me, I'd looked right back at her.

Finally she'd smiled. 'OK.'

I'd been pleased, but I'd honestly expected her to say no. I took my hand off her knee and sat back.

'Where are you parked?'

Waving off to her right. 'Behind the supermarket.'

'Me too. I'm going to go to my car, then I'll wait for you, if you're not sure, it's still your choice.'

I'd stood and put on my jacket, then taken a business card out of my wallet and given it to her as she'd got up.

'If you don't make it today but decide you'd like to get in touch later. And if you want to call your friend.'

She'd studied it.

'My car's actually a small white van, but I'll make sure you see me.'

She'd smiled at that. 'Good job I'm not prejudiced against men in white vans then.'

'Let's hope I don't change your prejudices.' And, to give her the space, I'd walked out.

I hadn't looked back as I'd walked the few minutes it took to get to the car park, then I'd stood by my van to see if she was there, and so that she could see me. She had been about 50 metres behind me, had turned right as she'd entered the car park and gotten into a blue Audi.

I'd climbed into my, now seemingly scruffy, van and waited a few minutes for her to pull out. It had taken her longer than I'd expected but she had probably been calling her friend.

I had been quite nervous as I'd pulled out and passed her, and I hadn't been able to stop myself from constantly checking my rear view mirrors. I needn't have worried, she'd stayed right behind me the whole way. Finally, after what had seemed to take far longer than usual, I'd turned down the short track and pulled to a stop outside my cottage, she'd stopped beside me and climbed out, already looking around.

'My goodness David, I didn't expect this!'

Which brings me right back to where I started. With Stella in my lap and my cock buried all the way up inside her.

___________________________________________________________

This is in complete contrast to her earlier contortions. None of the wildness, of the loss of control. Her face shows what this is; the slow experimenting with the feeling of sex. The experience of being in control, of controlling her body and the feelings her body generated when having sex.

This isn't the first time that she's had sex, not by a long way, but there's something different here. Not sure what it is yet, but something is definitely different.

She tried every combination of movement she could think of without going far; slow circles of her bum moving me around inside her, short slides up and down my cock, long slides up and down my cock, slow rocking backwards and forwards, fast rocking backwards and forwards. She found that she could rub her clit across my pubic hair if she got the angle right, she found that she could rub the head of my cock against the right spot if she got the angle right, she found that she could hit lots of little spots if she got the angle right. She made lots of little discoveries, or maybe lots of little rediscoveries, if she got it just right.

Reaching back behind her she touched my wet cock, she pushed up until just the very tip of me is still inside, rubbed her fingers up and down my hard length, pressing along the spongy underside. Took me all the way out, stroked the sticky head, pressed her thumb against the slit, squeezed her fingers under the corona.

I watch her face, her eyes are closed, her mind picturing what her fingers are touching.

Fingertips holding me, she centres herself, slowly slides down, her fingers touching me all the way down. She reaches further, strokes across my balls, takes them in her hand, juggles them across her fingers. She stretches even further, A fingertip touches my perineum, rubs across it, then traces along its length. A nail touches my arse, then the fingertip. She stops, pauses, eyes still closed, her mind recording the image.

Her fingers disappear and she sits upright. She begins to move with a purpose. Up and down, backwards and forwards, round and round, all those angles and discoveries she'd just made she now practised.

I loved watching her, for awhile, but those angles started to build up on me and the tingling started, then I had to stop watching, it was far too much of a turn-on.

But I could tell that it was the same for Stella. Her breathing was beginning to rasp. Her movements were becoming a little more staccato; she's abandoned anything complicated and is sticking to short ups and downs punctuated with little circular rolls.

She's moaning in a soft, crying way. Both her hands are now on my chest and she's stopping every few seconds, either because she's getting tired or for something a lot more pleasurable.

My own needs are gathering momentum, I thrust up to meet her; thighs slapping against her bum. She leans towards me, hands either side of my head, her heavy breasts hanging over my face, I cover one with my hand, latch onto the other with my mouth, flick her nipple with my tongue. A hand on the back of my head pulls me against her, difficult to breathe against the smothering flesh.

She presses her face to the top of my head, her lips crushed into my hair.

Her muffled cries get louder as she approaches her orgasm, her hips smacking down to meet my rising groin.

Then, one more time she gets the angle just right, one more time my cock rubs along just the right spot and that one more time is one too many and the tingling bursts, a long burning pulse of cum surges up my cock to erupt inside her, then two more spasmodic thrusts from me and Stella shudders into her own orgasm.

She presses me down into the bed, squeezing me with her bum and thighs. Moaning against my head, crushing me to her breast as wave after wave rolls through her.

A last ripple and she groans, then, in a release of tightly cramped muscles, she goes limp.

As my head drops back onto the bed her body seems to fold into itself as she sinks onto my chest. I wrap my arms around her and hold her whilst her breathing settles into some semblance of normal.

She takes a deep breath and slides off to my side.

'Thank you David.'

'Thank you? Whatever for Stella?'

'For letting me......I don't know......just......just for letting me.'

I almost said something about 'there was nothing to thank me for' when she reached up without looking and put her fingers to my lips.

So I didn't.

'Errm, do you have your testicles waxed David?'

She has her head on my shoulder and one leg slung over mine, she's absent-mindedly fiddling with my nipple and the question came out of thirty minutes of post sex silence.

'Waxed! Good grief no. I leave that particular torture to you ladies. I shave them.' I think that was the first time a woman had ever used the word testicles whilst fiddling with my nipple. That's a public school education for you. Wonder what else they teach them?

'Why?' She asked.

'Honestly? Because I don't like the feel of them when they're hairy.'

'Hmmh, do you think I should?'

'Shave your testicles?'

She slapped my stomach.

'Oww. No I don't think you should, not unless you really want to. You don't have much hair anyway.'

'Hmmmm.' She continued to play with my nipple. 'I think I might.'

I laughed. 'OK.'

'Can I use your bathroom please.'

'Of course you can. On the landing just on the right, the razor's under the sink on the left.'

She slapped my stomach again and scrambled off the bed then bent over to pick up her clothes: her knickers had ended up under the chair so it involved a bit of scrabbling to get them. The consequences of which are now self evident.

'Come here Stella.' I growled.

She looked over, her eyes widened. 'Oh my word, you are incorrigible!'

But then her face changed and she dropped her clothes back onto the floor.

She practically skipped back to the bed. Then crawled on to it.

'Stay right there Stella. Do not move.'

Her eyebrows lift questioningly but she stops right where she is; on her hands and knees. I scramble around behind her before she changes her mind.

'You do have a very nice bum.'

'No I don't.'

'Stella, I've just been avidly watching your bum, and I'm telling you that it is a very nice bum.'

She giggled. 'Stop it.'

I put a hand on each buttock and stroked it. 'Definitely very nice.'

She doesn't say anything to that but I hear an almost imperceptible groan. I squeeze her cheeks, bend down and, forgetting my earlier thoughts about comfort zones, swipe my tongue right across the cleft of her pussy and arse.

She gasped and froze at the unexpected touch. I bend down again and dab the tip of my tongue to her anus. She doesn't move, stays perfectly still. I touch her again but this time I kiss her and press the tip of my tongue against the tight ring of her sphincter.

Then straighten and shuffle forward until my cock is just touching her pussy. She recognises the touch and relaxes. I rub myself up and down then ease forward, push in that first bit, take hold of her hips and push in even more. She groans again and her head drops onto the bed.

Push further until my hips press up against her, my cock right up against her cervix, grind up against her, feel the rumble of her groan.

Holding her hips I build to a long smooth stroke, pressing up against her before pulling out to then drive back in, my cock a long piston lubricated with my own cum.

Long bum smacking, arse shaking thrusts quickly have Stella approaching a cliff edge that immediately sucks her over. There's no build up, no slope of steadily increasing intensity, she just suddenly trips off that edge and the muscles in her bum and pussy spasm and clench around me. I keep moving but slow down as she groans and twitches.

She sighs, stretches her arms and fingers out.

I push her down onto her tummy with my hips, follow her down with my cock still buried inside her. Hooking my legs over her stockinged thighs I push further in: the angles mean I can't reach as far but they also mean that with each stroke I'm rubbing across the sensitive roof of her pussy, far more sensitive for me too.

I push into her, pressing my hips against her bum.

She gasps at the new sensation, her head lifts off the bed as I feel her bum jump against me.

'Ohh.' And with each and every slide of my cock she gasps and exclaims. And with each and every slide of my cock my own orgasm thunders nearer.

I'm pounding into her, my hips slapping against her arse sending ripples across her buttocks.

I've employed every tactic I can think of to forestall the inevitable but I've now come down to just one; pausing every sixth ball tingling descent into her heat. I count every one, then pause: just for a heartbeat, just to give me that slight respite.

And with the noise Stella is making and the way her clenched fists are again pulling at the sheet I know that she is as close.

What I don't realise is just how close.

With a sudden show of involuntary strength she drags the sheet into her shoulders, pushes her bum up against me and her face into the bed as the muscles in her bum begin to vibrate against my hips.

And suddenly I can relax, all those efforts to hold my own impending orgasm at bay can be forgotten and I give her the two hardest, arse slapping, thrusts so far and, as a feeling of vertigo sweeps through me, I explode into her pussy. Pumping load after load into her depths.

And that sets her off again; her muffled voice rising in a long drawn out cry as her bum and legs spasm again and again until, eventually, she just seems to run out of energy and collapses onto the bed.

I roll off her to lie on my back by her side.

'Oh my word David!' Her voice trembles.

I gasp. 'Your language is shocking Stella.'

Her head flopped over so that she could see me. 'One does have to maintain a certain level of decorum.' She replied in a shaky parody of her own voice.

I laughed. 'Would you like a coffee?'

'So, you have your evil way and now you want rid of me, is that it?'

'I didn't say anything about you leaving. Anyway, I know full well that you ambushed me in the high street with your eyes firmly fixed on getting into my trousers.'

She chuckled. 'Peasant! But, yes, I'd love a coffee.'

'Good.'

And thirty minutes later we're sitting in my garden. She's had a shower and is looking as though she's just stepped from the salon; hair all in place, makeup perfectly applied. She didn't look at all like I'd just tried to fuck her to within an inch of her life. Clearly I'd failed miserably.

We sat there for quite some time not saying anything. Stella's smiling with her eyes closed and her face turned to the warm sun, lost in thought.

'You have a delightful place David, very peaceful.'

I looked at her, I hadn't realised that she'd come out of her reverie. 'Thank you Stella. I like it very much too. It's become my haven. Do you always wear such gorgeous underwear?'

She blinked, laughed and smiled. 'I'm glad you like it. And yes I do, I like to wear underwear that makes me feel good, and slightly naughty. I like to wonder if a man knows what I'm wearing, even when I know full well that he'll never know.' She paused for a heart beat. 'Can I come back?' She actually looked anxious.

'Stella, I would be extremely disappointed if you didn't.'

She looked down at the table then up again, her face beaming. 'Thank you.'

I smiled. 'Daft woman, I would have hunted you remorselessly if you'd said you didn't want to see me again.

She laughed. 'You can still hunt me if you want. But I'm afraid I need to abandon you for now David, I'm meeting a friend for lunch,' She glanced at her watch. 'a late lunch.'

'Will they wait if you're late?'

She smiled. 'She.' She clarified. 'Yes, she knows where I am.'

'Ah, and what does your friend think of your......flirtation?'

'Mmmm, I like that word. She thinks it's wonderful. She's always had her little......flirtations. Says I should have done this years ago.' She laughed to herself. 'She'll want to know every detail.'

I looked at her. 'And will you tell her every detail?'

She smiled, chuckled. She really did have a lovely smile. 'Not......every detail.'

We both laughed.

'So I must go David, it's going to be a long lunch.'