The Small Bar

That explained the panties in the garbage. I was so stunned I wasn’t
sure what to say. Should I tell her that I’d fantasized about her too?
Seeing my hesitation, she went on:

“I must be thirty, no, make that forty years older than you. The men
my age are pretty much either taken or damaged goods. I’ve dated a
bit, met some men in bars and taken them home, but there are so many
women my age that they seem to go from bed to bed, from woman to
woman, looking for the best deal and the most excitement. Worse yet,
just when you find someone, he’s likely to leave you for the next
young pretty thing that comes along, just like my husband did. So I’ve
been a bit lonely, and maybe in the midst of my fantasies I thought
maybe I could entice you in to help fill my aching need. Had I known
you were a virgin, I never would have done that. Please forgive me.”
She was weeping softly now, tears running down her cheeks.

“Mrs. Olsen.. uh, I mean Marie… don’t cry. I’m flattered and, well,
since you’re being so honest with me, I guess I should be honest with
you, too.” I hesitated, not sure where to begin, so I just let myself
ramble. “I haven’t really ever been with a woman, not ‘all the way’.
Heck, I’ve never really even seen a naked woman’s body, except in
pictures. But I think about it all the time, and well…” I readied
myself for the big bombshell.

“Marie, I think about you too, almost every night. I lie in bed and
imagine making love to you and I just lose myself in the thought and
the pleasure. I’m even more guilty than you are, because I’m sure I’ve
done something to make you feel this way. My ma always told me it was
men who made women have sex, and I apologize for whatever it was that
I did.” Inside, I felt the struggle of my emotions, my sadness for
having led her astray somehow, my relief at finally telling her, and
still, that persistent arousal that I always had around her.

“Tony, I think you have a lot to learn about women and about
yourself,” Marie said. “I’m glad we had this talk, and I, too, am
flattered. I think we both need to sort some things out, but we can do
that another time. I’m glad, for the moment, that you’re not mad at
me, and I thank you for hearing me out. Sorry about locking the door,
but I was afraid you’d run away and not let me talk to you.” She
reached into the pocket of her robe and walked to the door. Damn if
she didn’t look sexy doing it.

I stood and followed her to the door. As she reached with the key I
put my hands on her shoulders from behind, and she stopped. I came up
close behind her, and on impulse, leaned down and kissed her neck. She
didn’t move but I thought I heard an audible moan. I kissed again,
then opened my mouth to taste her smooth sweet skin. She had a clean
scent of soap but I could also sense that slightly musky smell I’d
noticed before.

She turned in my arms and her mouth met mine, the keys falling to the
floor. Her mouth was hungry for me and our lips bruised and teeth
clicked as our kisses spoke of all our contained passions. Our arms
caressed each other’s backs, then I found myself sliding my hands
lower to her full warm buns, pulling her close against my again
arching madness and gasping at the feel, even through our clothes, of
her body against mine.

“Tony, are you sure you want to do this?” she asked, though it was
much more ‘pro forma’ versus a real question. In answer I slid my hand
into her robe and under her nightgown, finding and caressing her hot
center. My hand and fingers were drenched immediately when I parted
her folds, and she gasped when I bent down and sucked lightly on her
nipple.

Truthfully, there was no going back for either of us. She grabbed my
hand and pulled me roughly to her bedroom, pushing me back on the
waterbed and slipping my sweats all the way off this time. I fumbled
and flustered but eventually got her robe and nightgown off, mouths
locked and hands exploring the whole time. I felt her breast and she
felt my nipples, and we took turns kissing and licking and nipping and
biting, teasing each other into a frenzy. She pushed me back and
straddled me, guiding and lowering herself onto my rigid cock and
gasping as I slid into her.

It was like nothing I’d ever felt before, so hot and wet. I could feel
her grasping me somehow as she moved up and down, her hands on my
chest, pinching my nipples, smiling as she felt me lifting her
slightly as I began to thrust upward, meeting her, going deep, almost
slipping out… I was messy and amateurish and at that point I stopped
caring about anything except the release that was about to happen. I
felt I needed to warn her:

“Oh Marie, I am going to CUM!” I almost shouted.

“Yes, baby, me too!” was her only reply and she slid forward a bit,
tightening her internal grasp on me as she slid her clit the length of
my veined and textured shaft. I couldn’t hold back any more.

I still can’t find the words for what happened next. I was gripped by
a wave of pleasure and tightening down below followed by what seemed
like an explosion of my cum, boiling and frothing and shooting forth
into her. “YES!” she cried as she started first muffled and then full
screams of passion, thrusting down on me with each “YES!” and my cum
seeming to spurt harder upwards with each thrust. I thought I must be
spent but as she slowed, her voice growing softer but more hoarse, I
could still feel my diminishing spurts pumping into her. Suddenly she
leaned forward and kissed me full on the mouth again, and then rolled
off me, my cock falling out of her with an audible plop. She turned
and smiled at me, then closed her eyes with the most intense look of
contentment that I’ve seen before or since.

As she lay there, her eyes closed, her face still red but her
breathing slowing, I just looked at her. The gray hair long and now
disheveled, the slightly spotted skin of her face and shoulders
telling of years in the sun, the slight sag of her breasts more than
compensated by their beauty and fullness. Boldly, I reached over and
touched one, and her eyes opened. She smiled at me and took my hand,
spreading my fingers and drawing my palm to her breast, then moving my
hand in circles across the hardening nipple. She guided my fingers,
showing me what she liked. Then she let me experiment with the other
breast on my own.

“Does this feel good, am I doing it right?” I asked, hopeful.

“Yes, Tony. But you are going to make me all horny again,” she said
softly. “I’m going to want you to touch my womanhood if you keep that
up,” she said, and it came out almost like a challenge. Encouraged, I
continued to caress and tease her breasts until she started to move
and moan to my touch, and she again took my hand, this time moving it
down her tummy and spreading her legs for me.

“Um, uh, Marie,” I said, haltingly, “Could I look?”

“Oh, Tony, I wish you would, and tell me if you like what you see!”
she said, the slight laugh returning to her voice. I slide down the
bed and spread her legs, enjoying my first full uninterrupted view of
a woman’s sex. Her hair there was less gray than that on her head, and
it was thick and matted with her wetness and my cum. It was more
beautiful than anything I’d seen in pictures or imagined, the folds
glistening and the reddish lips seeming to pout, to swell even as I
looked at them. As I stared she opened her legs further, and a glop of
my cum slipped out of her. She reached down, caught it with her
fingertips and she began rubbing it across her own nipples.

“Marie,” I said in a whisper, “Can I kiss you there?”

“Oh gawd Tony, yes. I wish you would!” she said, without any hint of
embarrassment. I kissed the inside of her knees and made my way down
her smooth full thighs, a bit cautious and fearful but drawn
irresistibly to her center. I kissed all around it, and especially
below, where our commingled juices seemed to flow from her
continuously. I kissed her then right on those swollen lips and heard
her gasp. Thinking I had hurt her somehow, I stopped.

“No, Tony, it is alright baby,” she said. “Please don’t stop.”

Encouraged but cautious, I used the tip of my tongue to trace her
opening, savoring the taste and the scent and the heat that seemed to
arise from her and warmed my face. That was the scent I’d noticed
earlier – was the smell of a woman’s arousal, and that knowledge cause
my already revived prick to jump with excitement.

“Gently, Tony, gently, find my clitoris, my clit. It will be a little
harder than the other tissue, and it will get harder still as you
touch it. It is my love nub, a woman’s counterpart to a man’s penis.
Find it Tony, and kiss it. I want you to do that,” she said, gently
and but with a sense of urgency in her voice.

I stuck my tongue in her toward the bottom of her opening and heard
her gasp again, and licked and probed my way up to the top. Just
beyond the top, pushing itself out from between the folds, I found her
love nub, and I circled it with my tongue. I heard her cry out in
pleasure and knew I’d accomplished my mission. Feeling proud and a
little silly, I started to hum the theme from ‘Mission Impossible’ as
my tongue danced around it.

“GAWD TONY!” she cried, “THE VIBRATIONS ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY!” Happy
that I’d discovered on my own something that excited her so, I hummed
harder, flicking my tongue across her as I did. She suddenly locked
her legs behind me and put her hands in my hair, pulling me harder
against her. I continued to lick and hum and flick as she started to
thrust against my face and pull my hair, until she uttered what could
only be called a primal scream and pushed me away.

“I’m sorry, honey, but I was so sensitive I would have lost my mind if
you’d continued,” she moaned, her body seeming to shudder in
aftershocks. Seeing my perplexed look, she explained “A woman’s orgasm
is like a crest of waves” she said. “You’ve taken me over the edge and
more would have been like trying to withstand a tidal wave” she said.
“I don’t even know if I’ll be able to walk!” she laughed. “Luckily, I
don’t have anywhere to go or anything to do but enjoy this afterglow.
But aren’t you working?” she asked.

I looked at the clock. Sigh. If I left now, I could shower and dress
and get to work with a moment or two to spare. “I’m not sure I want to
go in today” I said, smiling.

“Tell you what,” she said, “If you do go to work, I’ll have some
dinner waiting for you when you get off.” “Keep the key” she said, “I
have a spare. I might need you to come change my light bulb again.” I
kissed her, appreciatively and passionately until she broke it off,
tossing me her key and my sweats, and I left for work that night with
a smile on my face.