Who's Being Pursued? Pt. 03

"Well I guess I do too," she said with a mouth full of salad. We both laughed.

"So what do you need advice on?" I asked.

"Well Gina, to be blunt, I need to get laid and you seem to be an expert at that."

I sipped my wine. "I generally don't fuck my friends if that's what you're looking for," I said with a grin and raised eyebrow.

"Oh shit no! Not you Gina. I need advice on how to get some cock. I haven't gotten laid in a couple of years. I've worn out two vibrators!" she laughed then sipped her wine. "Not that I think you wouldn't be a great fuck," she said with a wink.

"So why haven't you been with a man? You are gorgeous, I can't imagine men don't approach you."

"Well," she began, "part of it is that I just don't like going out looking for a man. I've never been an aggressive woman when it comes to men, I've always been the pursued. The problem with that is the guys that do approach me seem, well, let's just say they're not the kind of guys I want to be with."

I totally understood why she'd always been the pursued, the prey. She's 53, bleached blonde and shapely. I'd seen pictures when she was young and she was an ash blonde back then but, like most blondes, her hair had darkened over the years and hers started very young. Not being pleased with her hair color she started coloring it in her early twenties and still does to this day. It is an attractive color and looks natural until her dark roots start showing, and she doesn't let that happen for very long. High maintenance is the word for Andrea and that's what led to her divorce. Her vanity kept her in the salon constantly, hair, nails, tanning; even going for botox, wrinkle fillers and teeth whitening. Her blonde hair flows over her shoulders, ending just above her breasts, and she typically wears it parted on the side. When she has a bad hair day or is just lazy she'll put it in a knot on top of her head. That's where it is today. Her eyes are the color of milk chocolate. She has a thin, graceful nose, plump lips and perfect teeth. Her breasts and butt aren't pronounced, she's an A-cup bordering on B, but she exudes femininity. She is an impeccable dresser and has a walk-in closet the size of my kitchen filled with fashion. Though she's not tall she has long, shapely legs. She modeled briefly when she was young but after she stopped growing taller she couldn't get work so she went to college and found a job at the hospital. She and her husband had a son who just turned thirty.

"You need to remember that you're not looking for Mr. Right, you're looking for Mr. Right Now. You need to think with your cunt and not your heart," I told her.

"How do I do that Gina? How do I become the predator and stalk a man? How do I become you?"

I laughed. "My dear, the prey rarely becomes the predator, at least when we're talking humans. You'll never be me, nor would you want to. You need to learn to become attractive to the right men, make them think they're coming after you when in reality you've already chosen them."

"Teach me Gina, I really need a man's touch. I want to smell him, kiss him, taste him and well, just fuck his brains out darn it!"

We both laughed and tossed down the last of our wine.

"Come to the pub tomorrow afternoon, say around 3 o'clock. I have an exclusive set of customers, a lot of single Irish men. The nature of Irish men has been described as egotistical, hot tempered, and stubborn, yet charming, warm, and a witty. Plus they're excellent lovers. I have a few men in mind but before we let them pursue you I'll help you pick the cream of the crop."

"So you're going to be my madam? Oh goody!" she squealed, "But wait, are you offering me your leftovers?"

"They're all experienced lovers, which is what you want for a one night stand. I've been with a couple of them in the past but it's been several years. Besides, I can guarantee quality of my leftovers," I said with a grin.

We stood to take our plates and glasses inside and she did a little dance as we went, singing "Ann is getting la-aid, Ann is getting la-aid."

We sipped another glass of wine each as we chatted about the men I was planning to show her. I gave her my opinion on them but told her the final decision needed to be hers tomorrow when she could examine the wares. She left in a much better mood than when she arrived. There was a spring in her step and a smile on her face.

I slept like a baby that night and awoke before my alarm. I had set it for 8am so I wouldn't be late for my performance. Since I was up early I took a shower, did my hair and put on some light makeup. As the clock approached nine I took a few minutes to prepare myself by letting my vibrator get me revved up and wet. My plan should have Brad begging to fuck me. A few minutes before the appointed hour I put on my housecoat and slipped my silicone cock and a bottle of lube in the pockets. I stopped in the kitchen to pour myself some coffee and headed to the balcony.

The windows on Brad's apartment building were all dark, it looked like I'd have no added audience members. The only curtains that were open were Brad's. I sat and sipped my coffee until he made an appearance. This time he wore a robe but I guessed he was naked beneath it. He nodded at me in recognition. I pulled the silicone cock out of my pocket and used the suction cup base to stick it to the tabletop. It was called the 'King Cock' on the website, eight and half inches of flesh pink pleasure. I called him the King.

I wrapped my fingers around the King and began stroking him. At first Brad just watched but soon I saw his robe project out from his body. He moved one side of the robe away and exposed his youthful cock. With his cock now exposed he undid the belt on his robe and let it fall open. His hand soon was on his manhood and he stroked in sync with my hand. As I stroked the King I opened my robe and spread my legs showing Brad my freshly shaved pussy. A look of surprise came upon his face and he momentarily stopped stroking his cock and just stared. I spread my lips for him and he started stroking again.

I decided now was the time for the real show. I took the King off the table and into my hands then began giving him the best blowjob I could as I looked up at Brad. I licked the length of the shaft then circled the head with my tongue. Every move was intended to make Brad wish he was in my hands and mouth. We locked eyes as I worked over the King. Soon Brad began to stroke faster, building to orgasm. I pulled the King out of my mouth and wagged a finger at him. I did not want him to cum yet.

I stood and walked around to my glass sliding patio door and plopped the King against the pane. I stuck it a the perfect height for what I had planned. Though my back was to Brad he would know what was happening. I lubed the King then raised my robe and backed up. Reaching down to hold him I rubbed him between my lips then impaled myself on him. I pulled my robe down off my shoulders and began pinching my nipples as I rode the King. Other than brief moments when I would close my eyes and make facial expressions for their effect on Brad we locked eyes and never looked away.

He began stroking faster and I matched his pace, fucking the King as Brad watched. It wasn't long until Brad came and once again he spewed ropes of his seed against the window. Watching that brought on my orgasm. I moaned though he couldn't hear me and I quivered on the King. Brad was now on his knees pumping the last of his cum onto the floor. I slid off the King and knelt down in front of it. I licked him clean as Brad watched. There was no need to run to my bedroom and grab my dildo this week, I'd just been satisfied by the King. In my mind it was Brad who fucked me and I was hoping I would soon make it true.