tagRomanceLate Bloomer

Late Bloomer


This is only a test, if this was a real life you would have received further instructions on what to do and where to go, this is only a test.

At thirty-five I had managed to avoid adulthood for over a third of a century. Much to my father's dismay and usually the pleasure of my mom, I lived at home. Oh, I'd been to college and had accumulated some knowledge that let me earn my keep by way of a job but other than that I was avoiding the serious side of life at all costs.

I didn't feel like an adult. I mean I spent my days at work, usually plugged into a computer handling customer service gripes about my company's software and helping them get things running. The job was textbook; all I had to do was follow the prompts on the computer screens and not get into an argument with the customer. Easy to do and I'm not the argumentative kind.

Weekends, I kicked back with a movie or some hoops or went to the beach in my old jalopy. Bennett was my good friend; he was less of an adult than I was and we'd sometimes just hang out in my backyard or play computer games. At least I was old enough to drink, although I'd given up getting smashed -- it just didn't feel good the next day.

Define adulthood? It has something to do with making your own responsible decisions. What happens when you are making no decisions about your own life? By definition, you're not an adult. Ergo, I am not an adult. And, if I am not an adult, I must be an adolescent -- that wonderful precursor to adulthood that, certainly in my case, can be extended almost twenty years.

Then I met Margaret.

Margaret was an adult. She lived alone, cooked for herself, bought her own clothes, decided what she'd wear each day without outside intervention, decided who she'd socialize with, and worked in a responsible job as a financial analyst at the same company I worked for.

Margaret had what I started to call a "rack" in high school. She also had brunette hair and a nice ass, but I was a "rack" man. Margaret took a new office down the hall from my cubicle when the finance group reorganized. I saw her at least fifty times a day and each time I saw her made me want to see her another fifty times. I could have just stared at her all day long; she had that kind of beauty about her.

For some strange reason, Margaret decided that she liked me. One day I was looking at someone totally unattainable, and the next day Margaret suggested that we have lunch together -- a move that I took as tantamount to going steady. We progressed from that lunch to touching. At first, touching had a subtle quality about it; neither of us wanted to admit that we were touching the other so it had to be incidental to what we were doing. Fortunately, we both used computers and one or the other of us took to being in the other's work area leaning over them, touching their shoulder or arm, or wrapping ourselves around them to point at something on the computer screen. I had the added benefit that when I went in her office I could look down her blouse or top and try to see more of her magnificent globes. Sometimes I think she knew I was peeking.

After a month of this foolishness, Margaret escalated things slowly, which was fine with me; I was in no rush to get anywhere. One day when we walked downtown for lunch she held my hand and even put her arm around me. I reciprocated of course. We kept doing that for a while. Then one day she kissed me after lunch to say "thank you." It wasn't a peck on the cheek, and it wasn't a tonsil tickler -- just somewhere between. I knew she liked me. I liked her. We kept having lunch together, and we kept kissing each other more and more but in a sedate way. It was nice and perked me up for the afternoon.

We had our first date in April. Dave Matthews Band was playing up in Tampa, and I asked her to go. She jumped up and down in glee over the whole idea, and I read this as a good sign. We enjoyed the concert yet even more I enjoyed the physical contact we had with each other the whole night, including a lot of kissing and hugging while all this great music washed over us. When I took her back to her condo I wasn't at all presumptive that something would happen, after all, I'd had a healthy relationship with my right hand whenever I felt the need for release -- that was usually once a day.

Margaret invited me in for a "night cap." I think the last "night cap" I had was a year ago with Bennett when he found two warm cans of Bud in the trunk of his car. Anyhow and with low expectations, I accepted her offer and followed her upstairs to her condo. We were both nervous, and I tried to think of what would make her feel better. Finally, I suggested that we dance.

Margaret liked the idea of dancing together and after we started so did I. We held each other close and made out. Sometimes we just stopped dancing and just rubbed body parts together, and French kissed. Margaret ultimately decided that she was 'super horny' and wanted some loving.

I was up for the occasion and helped her remove her clothes. Again, I was worried that I'd overstep some hidden boundary that I didn't know about, so I went very slowly. I'd toy with a button on her blouse for a long time, enjoying having my hand between those gorgeous globes that I only dreamed of seeing and feeling. She'd accelerate things by undoing the button; I'd read that to mean that I could undo all the other buttons. Then there was removing the blouse and then we repeated the process with her bra after I'd run my fingers and tongue all around the skin at the edge of the material. I noticed that Margaret started to pant. I don't know how I noticed over the sound of my own gasps.

When the bra came off I was in some corner of heaven. There, in plain sight for the first time before me, were these magnificent breasts, all round and firm, with large areolas atop them and then Margaret's nipples -- slightly inflated at this stage of things. Gesturing towards her chest, I asked her, "Can I suck on them?"

"That would be perfect," she whispered as she started to un-do the buttons on my sport shirt. I lost the shirt quickly.

We stood in the middle of her living room, half-naked, as I ran my tongue down her neck to her right breast. I circled the whole hemisphere, amazed at the divine geography I could cover on this woman's lovely body. I spiraled up her breast to the areola and then gulped the entire nub and nipple into my mouth. Margaret groaned and held my head to her chest.

After I made her right nipple erect and hard I repeated the steps on her left breast, maintaining consistency by using my hands to help support and feel her. She seemed to love every second of what I was doing. I drew this conclusion based on her mewing and cooing as I licked, tongued, smoothed, and pulled at her glorious tits.

I figured this was as far as we were going this evening so I had to be content with just the top of her body. Thus, I spent an inordinate amount of time orally loving her breasts. Of course, I'd come up and love her neck and face and lips and eyes too. She was swaying; sometimes in tune to the mellow radio station she'd dialed in, but more often in tune to her own body's rhythms.

I think at one time I brought her to a small climax. I was sucking hard on her left tit and rubbing her right breast really hard, pinching on the nipple to add to eroticism of the night. She started panting and then yanked my whole body into hers and just held me in a frozen state for about twenty seconds. Afterwards, she started gasping for breath and whispered, "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

I ran my fingers around her belt line as sort of test to see whether she wanted anything further to happen. In a flash, she'd unbelted her jeans and was pushing them from her long, lithe legs. All my systems went on full alert. This was a much better "date" than I'd expected.

As she undressed I kicked off my loafers and undid my jeans. I stepped out of them and into her arms. We both still had our underwear on; the only difference was that mine had a decided bulge in the front of them. Margaret rubbed her lower body into my bulge, and I rubbed back. My bulge got bigger.

"Let's go in my bedroom," she finally said, pulling me across the living room. I followed willingly and with an awesome sense of luck.

In her bedroom, all pretexts about why we were there vanished. We were there to fuck -- to copulate -- to make love -- to have intercourse. She pulled her undies from her body and turned to watch me lose my briefs. I flipped them atop her frilly underpants in the corner of the room. We looked longingly at each other's naked bodies in the dim light she'd turned on. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her. We kissed, and it was one of the hottest kisses I'd every experienced -- no, the hottest. I melted.

Margaret pulled me to her large bed. She lay back and spread her legs. There was no pretext. Whatever we'd done before was foreplay. There were no more steps to be taken. I moved in front of her body and put my very erect cock at the entrance to her vagina, rubbing the tip around her slit to gather some of her lubricating juices.

She reached up and stroked my face, then lowered her hand to my neck and pulled me towards her. I sank into her body, my cock slowly just sliding into her until there was no more sliding to take place. She wrapped her legs around my back and held me close. Not only was I enjoying the warm sensations her pussy muscles were making on my cock; I could also feel her firm breasts pushing into my chest as we kissed. Those erect nipples were tracing out a very erotic message I was sure.

We started pumping into each other. The sensations were spectacular between feeling the heat from her pussy and enjoying the touch of her full sized breasts. I kept kissing her, her neck, her breasts; she kept moaning and using her legs to jerk me into her pussy.

I could feel my body go on orgasm alert. I whispered something to Margaret as a warning; something like, "I'm very near."

She just yanked me into her body all the harder and whispered back to me, "Give me all you've got. Cum in me. It's OK."

My orgasm started deep within me. I know the semen comes from my balls, but the pump and the stimulating feeling that it produces are somewhere deep inside and when it kicks into gear every corner of my body feels ecstatic. I felt my pump rev up and start its pumping action, sucking my juices from my balls and shooting it along my interior tubing. Every surge took me to some new level of heaven, and it was happening fast.

Margaret threw her head back suddenly. I thought how wonderful she could time her orgasm to mine. Then I started to gush into her body. Jet after jet of my cum surged into her cunt. I held myself stiff-armed above her -- my cock buried to the hilt, my breathing stopped, my eyes soaking up the beautiful sight of her body splayed out beneath me in full acceptance of my affection for her.

Some seconds after my last spasm I collapsed into her waiting arms and the cushion of those wonderful globes of flesh. We hugged and kissed with a different kind of passion, softer and more meaningful, less rushed. I remained buried in her cunt, and she kept me tight against her loins with her legs.

When I was finally able to speak I pulled up slightly and looked her in the eyes and said, "Wow!"

She smiled at me and said, "Wow, back."

I made love to her breasts some more as I occasionally squirmed my flaccid cock around in her pussy. She liked all that and kept me going with little remarks like, "More of that. Right there. Do the other one too. Suck on it."

Then I had an idea that I thought might please her. I wiggled out of her and she released her leg hold on me. I slithered down her body, running my tongue around both breasts and then down to her navel and then down to her very wet pussy.

"Oh, Rob," she said, "Are you sure you want to do that?"

I didn't answer. I just let my tongue slid up and down her entire slit. She jerked and writhed around me in response. She tasted good. I'd tasted myself several times before and decided it was no big deal providing I was bringing pleasure to my partner.

Apparently, I brought a lot of pleasure to Margaret. She seemed to float about a foot above the bed as my tongue wagged around her pussy, pulling fluids from her, tongue fucking her, and of course lapping and sucking on her clitoris.

A few fingers inside her sopping cunt and I was able to find her G-spot. Margaret's mind-blowing orgasm followed thirty seconds later.

"Oh my God, Rob," she said. "How'd you learn to do that? You have to stop ... before work starts on Monday." She laughed at her own humor, and the day-and-a-half of open time she'd allowed herself for continued activities.

After a few more minutes of my ministering to her, Margaret said, "You lie back and let me return the favor." With that she moved down my body and inhaled my flaccid and very moist cock -- moist with my cum and her own juices all over it. She had no issue with tasting herself nor my spent juices.

Margaret knew how to suck cock. I about came out of my skin in the first thirty seconds that she had me. I was panting and quickly started to reinflate as she worked me over. She delivered a wide range of sensations to my withered rod quickly bringing me back to full readiness.

She finally said to me, "Some day I'll finish you off completely -- even swallow. Tonight, however, I want you back in my pussy." With that she pulled off me and mounted me so that her breasts swayed down over my chest as she started to bounce up and down on my cock. The sight picture alone was worth masturbating to; instead I was getting one of the greatest fucks in my life. What a surprise this evening was turning out to be. Great music. Great sex. Great woman.

We both lasted longer this time around -- at least I did. Margaret came several times as she mashed her cunt into my cock and loins. Finally, I had a repeat of the explosion I'd had earlier -- a grand and glorious orgasm that swept through my body. Margaret again managed to bring herself off as I did. Things worked out nice that way.

We cooed and petted as she rolled beside me. We remained coupled. I expressed how what had just transpired was the highlight of my sex life and hence, possibly my entire life. She laughed and told me she was feeling the same way.

I stayed overnight with Margaret, and we repeated the whole sexual joining thing in the morning. We were both feeling pretty mellow about each other when I kissed her goodbye and headed for home.

The one bad thing about living at home is that when you come home after staying over elsewhere you get 'looks.' I got 'looks' from my Dad and then my Mother. I ignored them, offered no explanation for being out all night, and went off to my room, cranked up the stereo and lay back thinking about Margaret, sex and about the possibility of adulthood.

A few hours later, after a usual dinner with my parents, I did something very unusual. I decided to call Margaret to thank her for our date and just to tell her how much I'd enjoyed our time together. Apparently, it was the right thing to do. She assured me the feeling was mutual, and she looked forward to another date in the near future.

Monday morning I got started earlier than usual, stopped by the supermarket on the way to work and bought some flowers. I got to work before most of my colleagues and before Margaret. I found a vase and put them on her desk without a note or anything by way of explanation.

I saw Margaret wheel into the office about fifteen minutes later heading straight for her office. I rolled my chair back into my cubicle and started filling in some customer service forms. Next I knew Margaret tapped me on the shoulder, I turned and she planted one hot, soul-searing kiss on me. "Thank you for the flowers -- and for the weekend," she told me, smiled, turned, and walked away. My heart lifted right out of my body and went with her. I was smitten I believe they called it olden days.

As it turned out Margaret was smitten too. We spent more and more time together and more often than not tried to fuck each other's brains out.

Margaret had some reservations about me, however. She thought my continuing to live with my parents was a stumbling block to any serious relationship. She was blunt. My relationship with Bennett and footloose and fancy-free attitude towards life came at a price too. Margaret told me in no uncertain terms that if I wanted to continue to be in her favor that I would have to become an adult.

Becoming an adult had all sorts of implications in terms of where and how I lived, the relationship with my parents and friends, my job, money management, and how I spent my time. Margaret started to push me to ask for some career advancement in the company; she decided that I needed to be a better earner than just getting some beer money and giving what was left over to my parents to defray part of my cost of living at home.

I decided I needed to grow in some ways that had escaped me if I were going to keep dating Margaret. I guess I'd already decided that she was a keeper. I hadn't proposed marriage or anything, but I did suggest that we 'go steady.' I still carried the high school model of dating and love in my head. She agreed but told me it would be a trial for six months. I had to improve in that time frame.

First off, she told me I had to get more serious about my job and career. So I became more aware of what I was doing, how I was doing it and how things could be improved. After I reached some conclusions, I made some recommendations to my boss that were accepted rather than just coast along in my usual laid-back fashion. After a few months I asked for raise and started looking for other jobs in the company that might actually represent a career track.

As a reward for being assertive that day, Margaret came by at lunch time as usual but instead of heading down to our favorite sandwich shop she led me to the garage where her car was parked. We got into the back seat, and she unzipped my pants. She inhaled my large cock and proceeded to give me a blowjob that about took the top of my head off. Further, she took all my cum and swallowed every drop except for a small rivulet that she let escape her mouth as she looked up and smiled at me. I respond well to positive feedback!

Margaret also helped me establish a career advancement program. Instead of just accepting about how things were I started reading books and articles on the Internet about business. First, I was bored but then I got very interested in marketing and advertising and how they were used to mold public opinion and build brands. As I became increasingly expert in this area, Margaret again rewarded me with a lunchtime blowjob and this time she wore a skirt so she could lie back in the car seat while we cuddled in the garage at work and let me eat her pussy -- something I love to do. I thought this was positive feedback at its best.

Next was the issue about living at home. Margaret and I talked about it and outlined two options: move in with her or get my own place. She told me I had to get my own place for a while to prove that I could live alone and responsibly take care of myself and my apartment. She was vocal about how my Mom had taken care of me way beyond a normal separation time in terms of cooking my meals, keeping my abode neat and clean, and doing things like laundry, sewing, and home maintenance (more my Dad's job). Thus, a month into my six-month 'trial' I got my own apartment a short walk from Margaret's condo.

I'd absorbed some of the basics about living alone. I didn't let the dishes pile up in the sink, I made the bed each day, I kept the living room neat and vacuumed, I did my own laundry in the building's common laundry room, and I actually started to prepare most of my own meals rather than just keep ordering pizza. Margaret actually took to coming to my place for dinner a few nights a week.

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