A thirteen minute read
It's the end of the week again.
Days seem to flow past much quicker once past the equinox. Daylight keeps bleeding out cycle by cycle. My truck keeps swallowing up mile by mile at a constant speed and always shifting velocity. I've knocked on more doors than I can remember faces associated with, but there is one specific door which has kept my imagination over-revving for about eight months now.
It's not that I've been around much, I would say that would be three times, tops, one being a personal appointment rather than a business sanctioned delivery run. Coincidences have a tendency to happen in batches and when everything else happening around an object of desire appear to be as mundane as possible. The first time I was around, I was supposed to be delivering (and installing) a hardware update on a system now considered vintage, if not obsolete. In total, I was in there for thirty minutes (five minutes of hauling, fifteen minutes of configuring, ten minutes of subsumed banter) and when I came out of her office I had a fairly good idea what I wanted to do with her.
I wanted to fuck her. Hard.
While driving back to the compound I was consumed by ruminating worries. Why did I find myself suddenly obsessing so much over a trivial random meet? What was that about that particular environment which seemed to arouse such an inane passion within me? How come that particular woman, out of the myriads I had thusly met, out of the thousands that had managed to captivate my sensual eye, out of the hundreds that had successfully completed the long trek returning from the outer ridges of my mind to the inner borders of my messed up bed, was able to captivate my attention from the get-a-go and keep a firm grip on it as well?
It wasn't like I wasn't getting laid, I was, almost constantly and at a rate, I would personally consider to represent some sort of shortage (compared to previous, profoundly glorious times) but still amply adequate for my ever-growing desires. What puzzled me the most was the fact that while I was being surrounded almost exclusively by women of all ages within a range of +- 15 years from mine, it was the older broads that punched the most weight on my desirability scale.
That simple fact was the one that caused my mind to whirl in a twist. She was roughly twenty years my senior. She had aged graciously, but she was still old-er. She was the kind of woman which exuded a flair of refinement and grace without sacrificing sexiness. She was a working professional and the mother of my current part-time-lover. She was a rough but gentle old bitch and she fitted the bill, perfectly.
The second time I visited her office was about a personal matter that needed professional attention, and I had landed this gig due to her daughter's intervention. I was there for about two hours in total and within that time-frame, we held a conference while lounging about in comfortable reclining office chaise-longues, and I was medically examined and put through various cognitive tests. That visit was culminated by ten minutes of idle banter meant to shake off any growing notion of professionalism between us.
Nothing out of the ordinary happened that day, but I had marked it down as important as I was also conducting my very specific personal strain of field testing. Her presence was under constant scrutiny, every movement was noted and analysed, the nooks and nuisances of her voice, the timing and duration of her responses, the way she carried herself around the room and while she was examining me, the positioning of her body towards mine, the way her eyelashes flickered above her eyes every time she was responding to me after a heavy bout of deep thinking, the curve of her mouth as her lips were drawing up to a smile after a seemingly random and off-beat remark of mine. The way she touched me during our session, the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn't looking, the way she nonchalantly waved me goodbye at the door before breaking out in flirtatious trivialities after my insistence in proclaiming an acute preference about her modes of working.
Third time around was a business call, I was delivering consumables and a new software update for another piece of machinery, one that could not under any circumstance considered to be vintage but had conclusively decided to operate as one. My stay was short and sharp, time was of the essence. Didn't have much time that day for formalities or trivialities so I got in, did what I had to do, flawlessly, picked up my gear and shot for the door. She was there, standing, hands clasped together in front of her belly. I stood back and watched her floating about the exit turnstile.
Dirty blonde dyed hair, with a tint of red in them. Not as lustrous and shiny as they once used to be. Thin and long nose, large nostrils, prominent bridge, normal sized bright green eyes, shape twisting downwards at the tear duct, smile marks and wrinkle lines, still thin and slender neck, large loose peachy keen blouse, A-line black skirt, grey thick stockings. Round plum bussom, round plum bum, average height. Minimal flesh exposed, maximal fantasy engaged.
She smiled at me as I was exiting the door. Large teeth. Thin cusped lips.
“See you next time”
I smiled back.
“Hate. Freedom. Benjamin Braddock! Mother-fucker!”, the words came to me in unison, as if spoken through song. I left her office and made my way back to her daughter's apartment which I proceeded to fuck ten ways to Sunday before promptly falling over in sleep, forgetting about her ageing cunt for a good full week until suddenly one fine morning I got a call back directly from her.
“Can you come around?”
It was about a piece of utility furniture, but it wasn't meant for the office. An hour later I rang the doorbell to her house.
Her hair was done the same way as last time I had seen her. Her teeth had the same off-white colour. She was again dressed in a fairly conservative outfit. Her lips flustered and eyelashes flickered as she closed the door behind me.
“You were quick to get here!”
I decided to play coy. I politely asked for the kitchen, where the piece of furniture was meant to be installed. Oakwood cabinets. Red felt upholstered ebony chairs. Flower patterned cotton slip-overs on rustic style couches. My instruments of worked slipped out of their carrying case and found themselves neatly arranged on the kitchen table.
“Want something to drink first?”, she came ostensibly close to me.
Vision immediately occluded my mind. Shady, murky, stank visions about silent hushed darkened rooms, breasts and bums stroboscopically highlighted by suddenly appearing electric spotlights, her breath in my ear, the yet unknown taste of her lips, my throbbing cock jammed hard down her bunghole, my pelvis crushing her exposed butt-cheeks, my fingers strongly grappling her fading locks.
I turned my body fully towards her and looked deep into her waning green eyes.
“Something to lighten up the senses?”
She smiled and lowered her head towards the floor. I could have sworn I saw her blushing.
“Something to perk them up perhaps?”
I turned back to the table pretending I was absorbed by evaluative thinking. She came back holding two tall glasses filled with a green liquid which made me laugh as my attention slowly levered towards her proposition. Grinning widely I gently took the glass from her hand making sure my fingers come into full touch with her own. She let the glass slip away from her attention and as she raised hers towards her mouth made a small almost imperceptible move towards me.
I squeezed my glass hard and raised it forward. She looked at me over the tipping lip and at that same time I sensed the deadened silence in the room. Something punched me hard in the stomach. I put my drink down on the table, next to the drawings, leaving it there untouched.
Immediately she left hers beside mine and opened her hands toward me.
“What's wrong?”
I turned my gaze to the floor and shifted my weight uneasily from foot to foot.
“I was just wondering ….”, I raised my head suddenly while looking at her questioningly.
“What about?”, she came in swift and clear.
I permitted a solemn moment of silence to speak volumes of itself.
“How long has it been since you've sucked a good hard cock.”
The solemn moment of silence carried itself past the mark of comfortability. Without witnessing an actual trace of one, I felt an impenetrable wall erected between us and then in a furtive moment suddenly dismantled.
“How dare you!”
Internally, I breathed a sigh of relief. I was comfortably in.
Mother and daughter. Daughter then mother. Classic value fuck.
“Such a pity ...”, I let my voice drag along over the shifting silence.
“What are you talking about?”, she came in sharp and abrupt.
“The way we carry ourselves throughout our lives. One step over the throes of death and everybody is still out looking for one good last fuck. Our whole lives are slowly crumbling around us and all we want to do have our insides torn in the name of insatiable raging ultimate sexual pleasure ...”
My tongue clicked provocatively as I decidedly emphasised the pauses between my final words.
Her hands immediately wrapped themselves over her breasts creating a very effective landlock as she turned around to run for the door. As quickly as she rushed off she came to a halt right under the doorway.
“Such a pity to round up such a delightful experience by eternally suppressing that innate desire to just have ONE GOOD LAST FUCK!”
I screamed. She howled. I took a step forward. She threw herself on the couch and I threw myself right next to her ear.
“Wouldn't you like, wouldn't you want to suck a new fresh cock? Wouldn't you prefer to gulp down hot cum, have your arse slowly penetrated by a monstrous stiffy, wouldn't you want to cum all the way to eternity, as a pair of hardened balls smacked your butt-cheeks in smithereens? Wouldn't you just love to suck my cock, drink my cum, eat my ass? Aren't you sexually attracted to me? Wouldn't you want to touch me, fuck me? Wouldn't you want me to rape your cunt in every extent possible, and then, some, more?”, I hissed in her ear while squeezing her big fat tits.
She screamed once more and pushed me away, but not with enough force for to not immediately regain control. Grabbing her by the jaw, I turned her face towards mine and screamed out my order.
“Open your mouth!”
A flash of green light shot out from her eyes, attempting to bury through my own cornea down to my very soul. It failed.
“Open your fucking mouth!”
Slowly like an elderflower blossoming under the harsh light of a mountain-borne sun, her mouth swung open in front of me. Not without a pinch of retribution, and not without a pinch of absolution, hawked in and spat out into her open mouth-hole.
She took my spittle without struggle and kept her composure. Quick as lighting I stood upon from the couch and let my pant flies swing before her now welcoming eyes. I grabbed the base of my cock firmly with my right hand, squeezing my balls upward, took my monster out and held it high over her face.
“Do you want this, bitch?”, I growled and shook her jaw with my left hand. Again slowly, she nodded, while keeping her mouth open, silver strands of spittle now hanging from one idle rounded corner.
I push my cock onto her face. My balls slip into her open mouth, I can feel them securely rest on her wet flattened tongue. Aggressively I rub my shaft over her nose, push the head into her nostrils and eye sockets, I grab the back of her neck and firmly squeeze one entity to merge with the other. Her tongue writhes and wriggles under my balls, folds and turns upward into a point which then hurriedly licks and tickles my scrotum. She pants and expels pent up air through her nose as she opens her mouth even more wide in order to accommodate the full weight of my power pockets into her hole. My cock rests idly on one cheek as I permit her to suck, nibble on them for a minute or so, allow her the pleasure of tasting my exquisite scents before forcibly pulling away from her hunger driven mouth, and sliding my cock down her cheek, splitting her momentarily closed lips apart, driving it deep into her open mouth.
She seems to be out to confirm my theory. I feel as if I am being rightly consumed. She tries to get everything into her mouth, gags and then forces on some more. I've relinquished all control and the fun has only just began. Once my cock is out of her hot wet mouth her hand takes over rubbing my shaft up and down in quick successions. She then takes it in, head first, eyes closed, nostrils flaring, tongue swiftly moving in and out, over and around as the head of my cock turns fire red. She prods and bites, softly then more intensely, she kisses it and slides her tongue around it then cusps her lips all over it, places the tip of her tongue on my urethral opening and proceeds to quickly fuck it with quick precision jabs while whirling her lips my pulsating battering ram's throbbing, burning head. She opens her eyes and sees me exposing my teeth, wrinkling my nose and she knows how to accentuate our pleasure as she applies pressure through her lips and slowly swallows my cock up the middle, rerunning the length a couple of times before spitting the head out and letting it rest, steam out, supported by the width of her extended soft tongue.
She grabs my ass with both hands, cusps my ass-cheeks firmly and for five good minutes passionately pumps my blood through my cock. My eyes are closed, my head is drawn back, my knees are slightly bent and my thighs are slightly shaking. I can see her head, through closed eyelids as it gracefully bobs up and down, I can clearly discern the white streak on her hairline
As if experiencing my vision in tandem she releases her grip on my cock and furtively tears away at her blouse, stripping her shoulders bare then stretching the fabric until it passes under her bra. Without letting go her mouthy hold on my cock and without altering her positioning, pace and movement she fishes behind her back for her bra clasp, finds it, spits my cock out and grabs my balls back into her mouth, tears her bra from over her chest and takes her thick hardened brown nipples between her index finger and thumbs.
Expertly, she leans under the shaft and expertly runs her tongue all the way up the head, curling it under as if running it along the length of an oversized drinking straw. She rubs her nipples between her fingers and pulls her breasts apart, takes my cock back into her mouth and really starts to intensely suck at it while she begins to loudly vocalise her own pleasure.
I open my eyes and see, for the first time, her big fat droopy breasts between her cusped hands and immediately know that I'm going to cum, and I do, slow, deep and burning hard. She swallows every drop, licks her lips, opens her eyes only to wink at me and confidently smile in deep satisfaction.