"Happy Valentine's Day." The roses dropped on my plate, and I looked up in surprise.
"Do I know you?" I was at my favorite Chinese takeout restaurant for dinner. It was Valentine's Day, but I was alone and content. The man before me was white, twice my age, and dressed in a disheveled suit.
"No," he said, dourly answering my question, "But I spent too much money on these to throw them in the trash. A pretty girl should have them."
"Thank you," I said cautiously. I moved them to the side so I could finish my sweet and sour chicken. "Do you want to sit down?"
He looked toward the counter and shrugged. He must have been planning to carry out, but they were slow tonight. Plenty of lonely diners. Sighing, he sat across from me. His medium build was all slumped under his nice clothes. He had blue eyes and a ridge in his nose that meant he wore glasses most of the time.
"I'm Claire," I said.
"Dr. Robert Pearl," he said sadly.
"Are you a doctor?" I asked.
"Not that kind. I teach applied physics at the university."
"Oh, that's interesting," said the English major. I wasn't even sure how physics could be applied. "Are you teaching any interesting classes?"
"No." He sighed again. "You're not married, are you? I don't want a husband barging in and stabbing me in the throat."
I laughed at the unexpected imagery. "No, I'm single."
"I would expect a beautiful black woman like you to have plenty of dates tonight." It would have sounded like a come-on if he weren't so depressed.
"I'm not a romantic type. I'm single by choice. YOLO and all that." He snorted, and I realized the term was probably lost on him. "You only live once," I explained.
"I've heard the students saying things like that. Yolo, Rolo." I laughed again, but I felt bad about it.
"I guess you were expecting someone tonight," I said.
"She showed up, but she was expecting someone else. Some muscle-bound egghead, I suppose."
"Oh. Well, you seem nice enough."
He snorted again. "She took one look at me and walked out the door. We've been talking online for weeks, but apparently my words impressed her more than my looks."
"Online relationships are like that sometimes," I said. He was fairly handsome, I thought. I'd fuck him. I hadn't been with anyone much older, but they say they have more experience.
"I suppose I was optimistic to suggest meeting for the first time on Valentine's Day."
"Live and learn," I said. They called out his order at the counter--chicken teriyaki--and he stood up to go. "Why don't you eat with me?" I asked. "It's the least I can do for some flowers."
He paid for his food and returned to the table. We exchanged the usual getting to know you questions. He taught how to apply physics, and I took calls in a call center. His initially gloomy demeanor was replaced by a cynical but humorous attitude. Since we didn't have much in common, our conversation drifted around casual topics, finally settling on the one thing everyone had in common--sex.
He called himself a sexual connoisseur, not just online but in person too. He claimed to have seduced women young and old. This woman, he said, was pure bad luck. "I've never had someone reject me so underhandedly." When it came to me, he said, "I assume you're single because you like sleeping around."
"That's one way to put it."
"The ethical slut is what they call it. Interesting that the women's liberation movement has come to that."
"It is a form of freedom to be able to have sex with who you want."
"I doubt those young guys care anything about that. They're horny, and you're available is all that matters." I shrugged. "Not that my generation had anything against free pussy, but when you get older, you start to appreciate sex. There's no rush to get off, so you enjoy the sensual side of it."
"I can see that," I said.
"There's nothing like laying a woman down and tasting her from head to toe, paying special attention to her breasts and crotch, and then slowly entering her and feeling every inch of those soft folds."
"I could see why you get a lot of responses online," I said, squirming as I imagined him doing those things.
"And it would have been even better in person. Anal is my favorite. Turning her over, squeezing those round cheeks in my hands. Opening up her tight rosebud with my finger, preparing her for my larger shaft--" he must have seen the expression on my face, because he stopped. "You've never experienced anal?"
"No. It seems kind of...icky."
"It can be 'icky,' but it is also very intense with the right preparation. You have to go slow and relax the muscles, almost trick them into accepting something so foreign. The dirtiness and the wrongness of it heighten your sensitivity. Of course, when it's one of your young men doing it, they want to rush and treat it like a vagina. The ass is different, and it has to be treated that way. Gently at first, and, once you're ready, as much hard fucking as you can stand."
Sounded like fun, I thought, but none of my guys had ever wanted to go 'back there.' "I'll have to find the right person to try it with," I said, but then I realized: you only live once. "Sounds like you're free tonight?"
He grinned. "I am, and I would be honored to introduce you to the art of anal. We'll wait until the Chinese gets through you, first."
We finished my dinner, and he met me at my house. When he came in, he put condoms and three bottles on my coffee table: wine, lube, and a laxative.
"Fun date night," I said.
"I've had worse. This stuff works in an hour," he said, pointing to the laxative.
"What do we do until then?"
He certainly had ideas. I spent the hour naked on the couch, moaning as he explored every crevice of my body.
"There's something sexy about a classy black woman," he said as he kissed down my neck and my shoulders. "Nothing like knowing the lady in your office is a wanton slut under the right circumstances. Of course, I could be talking about your mother."
"You better not be," I said as he tickled my collarbone with his tongue. "She's never taken a physics class."
"I've never directly picked up a student of mine," he said, moving on to my breasts. "Most of the female students study liberal arts. Girls your age won't even consider a man my age based on looks alone, but once I send them an email explaining what I can do, they will gladly meet me."
"I can provide a reference," I said. The way he sucked on my nipples almost made me come by itself. He kissed a gentle line down past my navel, then lifted my thighs and brought me to his mouth.
"Have you ever heard the phrase, 'the darker the berry, the sweeter the juice?'"
"Yes," I gasped.
"It's not true. All pussies taste uniquely delicious." He licked my lips inside and out until I was begging him to fuck me. Finally he placed his mouth on my clit and replaced his tongue with two fingers. He massaged my muscles as he latched on to me, following my hips as they bucked and shuddered.
I gave a big sigh when he pulled away. He poured glasses of wine for both of us, but with the satisfied feeling I felt my stomach rumbling. I said, "I think I have to go."
"Let it all out and hop in the shower," he said, leaning back on the couch with his glass.
Sitting on the toilet was not pleasant, but I did have a nice empty stomach when I started the shower and got in. I almost screamed when he opened the shower door and joined me.
"I don't remember inviting you in."
"It's dangerous to leave a man alone in your house. Besides, I have a vested interest in your cleanliness." He pulled me to him and kissed me. His lips were soft but firm as he gently but insistently held me. I liked his initiative.
I didn't get a chance to see his cock, but it felt hard and long pressing between us. He turned me around toward the shower wall and poured soap in his hands. He ran his hands up over my breasts, squeezing them, and back down and around my thighs. He came around to my ass, briefly cupping them before sliding one hand in between my cheeks.
He gently rubbed between my legs, and I instinctively lifted my hips toward him. His finger briefly circled my clit before sliding back to my asshole. I tensed up, but he ran his other hand up my back and whispered, "Relax."
His finger tickled me briefly before pressing in. The invasion immediately felt wrong, but I tried to breathe as he made small circles inside me. Then he pressed deeper and deeper until I felt his other fingers on my cheeks. I felt so horny as I leaned back against him. It almost felt like he was inside my pussy, but it was different somehow.
He pumped in and out, slowly stretching me. I started to moan, but he pulled away. "I think you're ready," he said. He reached over and shut the water off. I trembled with the cold but quickly jumped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. I only had one in the bathroom, so I wrapped it around me and ran into the bedroom to give him another. He had disappeared but soon returned with the lube and condoms.
Finally I got a good look at him. He wasn't too flabby for an old guy. No muscle but, I was happy to see, no beer gut. As far as his cock, it was long and dark red, almost purple. "Are you sure that thing's going to fit?" I asked.
"I've done the calculations," he said, briskly drying off and herding me to the bed. "Lay down and put your ass up in the air." I did so, and he rubbed slow circles around my cheeks. "It may be a stereotype, but most black women I know have fantastic asses."
I moaned instead of answering as his finger returned inside me. He probed me slowly, and I got used to the fullness. He had put a little lube on his finger, and it made a squishy sound as he pushed in and out.
"Rub your clit," he said, "Get ready for my tool to stretch you."
"What kind of tool is it?" I asked jokingly as I touched myself. I couldn't believe how hot I was just from his finger.
"A slide rule. You probably don't even know what that is. Do you want me to tell you what a young slut you are?"
"I don't care what you do, just fuck me already." He chuckled and kissed my back. I felt his finger leave, and I rubbed myself furiously as he put on a condom and lube. In my pre-orgasmic daze, I felt him pressing against my hole. After just brief resistance the head was in.
I gasped at the largeness and reflexively pushed back. He held onto my back and continued to slide in. I started trembling as he buried himself deep inside me. Finally his body was touching mine, and he whispered in my ear.
"How does it feel to know I have violated your one last private hole?" He started stroking, grinding inside me at a slow pace. My body felt like jelly, with only his shaft preventing me from melting into the bed. He kissed around my neck and grabbed my breasts from behind. As he increased his pace, my orgasm took over.
On the other side, he was thrusting rapidly with confident strokes. "Now you're completely opened and pliable for my cock," he said. "Are you ready to feel my hot sticky cum flooding your virgin ass?" I felt him stiffen up and push all the way in. Another orgasm rocked me as I felt his throbbing cock shooting his cum.
He rested on top of me before pulling away. I collapsed on the bed and rolled over. The feeling of the lube and God knows what else leaking out of me made me shiver. He grabbed a towel and wiped himself and my behind.
"Beautiful," he said, and I laughed at his brevity.
"Is that all?"
"Nothing else needs to be said." He sounded out of breath. He laid beside me and pulled me close to him. "I think this turned out to be a good Valentine's Day." I murmured my agreement.