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All persons herein are over thirty, well over!
Being alone is not much fun. Being alone after forty years of marriage is even less fun. You miss the closeness, the friendship and yes, the sex. Actually I really missed the sex.
Not that frantic bonking we used to do in our twenties and thirties, no, the much more relaxed, time consuming stroking, cuddling and tickling that two people, who are very familiar with each other’s likes and dislikes, enjoy as a prelude to actual intercourse.
Sometimes it never got quite that far. Sometimes it was enough to stroke each others bodies or indulge in a bit of oral or even a bit of light hearted tie and tease.
The bondage was always something one could easily escape from, just a bit of dressing gown cord tied round the mattress, but it set the scene. Anyway, why try to escape when you know that you have permission to accept anything. After all, it’s not your fault, you were bound hand and foot: delicious.
So when it all ended it was a loss, a huge loss, and after a while I felt that rather than bemoan my lot, I should go out and do something about it.
I tried all the obvious ideas but it seemed to produce contacts that were very much more social than sexual. It was time for a rethink. It didn’t take long: the internet.
The idea was all very well and some of the adverts were clearly for prostitutes. Not that I have anything against prostitution, it just wasn’t what I was looking for, although a ‘no strings attached’ shag with a nubile young thing certainly had its attractions as an idea.
I worked through numerous sites, some looking for life long partners, some just looking just for sex and everything in between. I was slightly surprised by the number of older women who obviously just wanted sex, and even more surprised about how open they were, in their adverts, about what they wanted.
One lady in particular caught my eye. From the clues in her advert, I surmised that she was in her sixties and, what really endeared her to me, was that she was obviously comfortable in her skin. Obviously, because her photograph was of her posed naked, sitting on a table facing sideways.
Her full breasts hung down, clearly missing the support of her bra. There were some loose skin below her navel, sagging slightly and, as she was turned sideways, not a hint of anything more. No pubic hair, no hint of the delights concealed between here demurely closed thighs. Her silver hair was worn quite long framing a still quite pretty face as she stared sideways, out of the picture, oozing confidence and, I have to admit, sex appeal.
This was the picture of a lady who had experienced life, her body had produced children and was hinting at a life well lived. I thought to myself, there must be a story there and I would love to find out more. I filled in the contact request, giving my details and, as I stared at her photograph on my iPad, my free arm brushed over one of my nipples and, to my surprise, I noticed the start of an erection.
Spontaneous erections at my age are not common. I have watched porn films, with nubile young things being shagged in all positions, without any stirring in that department at all, but here was a picture of a mature, nay very mature, very naked, very confident woman causing a stirring in my loins and she was doing nothing sexual at all.
I don’t know how many replies each advert can expect but I am sure it is plenty, so I thought my chances of a response were slim and, as the days passed, I thought they had faded to zero until I awoke one morning to an email.
“Thank you for your interest, please email a photo and your thoughts on public nudity.” I thought it was a strange request but as the site was set up for people looking for sex, I decided to reply.
I had often noticed men advertising their wares on these adverts, sporting huge erections and promising to wield them with such skill that the lucky recipient was going to be totally satisfied with screaming orgasms for hours on end. I decided that this was clearly the wrong approach.
I thought abut it for a while and decided that the best response would be in the same style as her advert. I set up my camera, as best I could, took off all my clothes, sat demurely on the end of the table facing sideways with my legs so positioned as to show nothing.
I am no Adonis! The photograph was hardly the most flattering but, as Oliver Cromwell once said, it was an honest picture, “Warts and all.” I inspected the result carefully. Balding, well bald actually, bespectacled, bonus veren siteler naked with a slightly larger stomach than I would like, but otherwise not too bad for an “old ‘un,” starring out of the picture sideways, not feeling half as confident as the picture suggested. Not a hint of genitals or pubic hair, just what I wanted.
What to make of the question though? Public nudity? What did she mean? Clearly she was very comfortable with her body so I assumed that she meant nudity on the beach, and I replied that I had not had much experience of it recently but used to go to ‘clothing optional’ beaches some years back. I found it strangely liberating and much more comfortable after swimming. Wet swimming things are truly uncomfortable and besides, the scenery is much more enjoyable too.
But all that was long in the past. To give some idea of just how long ago it was, I well remember seeing my first Brazilian. It completely took my breath away. Most females, on the beach, sported luxuriant growths of pubic hair which pretty well concealed everything.
This lovely lady, walking along the beach, with jet black hair, had her pubic region beautifully trimmed into a perfect rectangle which ended just above the interesting bits. It left her vagina totally on display and she appeared not to have a care in the world. My first sight of a vagina in a non sexual situation and I remember every detail.
I am not trying to give the impression of a dirty old man, besides I was probably still in my thirties, but men are hard wired to notice. I looked and admired, but more in admiration than out of lechery. Anyway my wife soon pointed out that I was taking too long just ‘noticing’.
Actually nudity is fine, covered is fine but, I have to confess, the transition can be uncomfortable. I was once in a mixed sex sauna. We were all naked, naturally, and I was taking a shower beside a generously proportioned lady.
No problem, but then two bikini clad ladies came in from the swimming area, one leaned forward and unhooked her top releasing her pendulous breasts while the other slipped her thumbs into the sides of her bottoms and started to peel them down. I confess I had to look away. So that is a rather convoluted explanation that boils down to the fact that I am comfortable naked in mixed company.
I decided to précis this information in my reply and I must have made the right decision, as I got a reply suggesting we meet up for a drink and a chat to see where this was going.
As it turns out, things were going rather well. The wine bar was cosy and we took a corner booth. She was just as attractive in real life as she had been in her picture, but it did seem slightly odd meeting someone whom I had never seen fully clothed!
We chatted about everything and nothing as she revealed she was in an ‘open’ relationship. They both did pretty much as they liked but told each other all about it afterwards which, she claimed, really got him going and led to some pretty boisterous sex.
Her manner was as confident as her picture had suggested as she looked out of the frame. I was transported, and feared that I might not have made sufficient of an impression when she placed one of her hands on top of mine, in a conspiratorial gesture.
“You get top marks for your reply to my advert.” She said, “you wouldn’t believe the number of pictures I received of erections. Now I confess to having seen my fair share of erections in real life, but experience tells me it is not the tool, but the workman that counts.
“So the erection pics went straight in the bin, along with the ones that promised me nights of unimagined ecstasy. I also loved your attitude to mixed sex nudity and so here we are. As far as I’m concerned we tick all the boxes. Shall we now go and see if the sex meets our expectations?” And she withdrew her hand.
I don’t know what I was expecting but certainly not that. We’d only just met, swapped details of our sex lives which, in my case anyway, not a soul on planet earth had ever been told and she was inviting me to have sex with her.
She definitely exceeded my expectations, but I hadn’t considered things would move quite so fast, however I managed to make it clear that I was more than happy to continue, even if I did it clumsily.
“Come,” she said, with more than a slight twinkle in her eye. “As I mentioned I have an open marriage and have made provisions.” We left the wine bar, caught a taxi to a modest hotel where she already had a booking.
“You go and check in,” she said. bedava bahis “The reservation is in the name of Jacobs.” I completed the formalities, collected the room key and we took the lift to our room.
Things were moving very quickly and I hardly had time to catch my breath. I hadn’t had sex for months and was totally unprepared which, somehow she sensed.
“Let’s start by finding out just what was hidden in your picture,” as she started to unbutton my shirt slowly from the top. As each button gave way to her insistent hands I felt a stirring lower down. She left the unbuttoned shirt hanging on my shoulders as she set to work on my belt and zip with equally slow deliberation.
When I was reduced to my open shirt and boxers she stepped back and started to undo the buttons of her blouse, again very slowly. The blouse was removed and then the skirt.
“Now this is the bit you are going to like,” she whispered as she leaned forward letting her hair fall over her face. She unclipped her bra and released her breasts to my gaze. “The transition, that you find so difficult!”
My boxers revealed just how accurate she was and I was quite taken aback by how much of my reply she remembered.
Standing upright again she smiled, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” As she hooked her thumbs into her panties and started to lower them provocatively. I didn’t need any further encouragement and pulled my boxers over my slowly swelling cock.
She was waxed smooth, not a hair in sight, giving me an unimpeded view of her sex. Full vaginal lips and incredibly sexy stomach that had obviously been through childbirth, probably several times.
She moved in closer now that we were both full naked, cupped my balls in one hand and pulled my shirt off my shoulders as her breasts stroked my chest hair.
“Well, who likes that then?” As she stroked my cock, rubbed her breasts on my chest and tickled my balls. “Stroke my back.” I did as I was told and let my hands wander down her spine and over her buttocks. By this time, much to my delight, I was fully erect.
“I know you said it has been some time since you last had sex so just relax and go with it.” She slid down to her knees, took my cock in her mouth as she gently stroked my balls with one hand.
The warmth and softness of her mouth was starting to get me obviously very excited, my breathing quickened and I was afraid things might end very quickly.
“I said relax: enjoy.” The tension was mounting very rapidly. “Just go with it.” As she stroked my buttocks with the nails of her free hand.
“This is getting hard to bear.” I protested.
“So! Just let it happen.”
I needed no further encouragement. A tingling started in my feet and worked its way slowly up my legs. My knees buckled a little and I came in her expert mouth. Spurt after spurt flew from my cock and my knees nearly gave way. I don’t recall an orgasm like that for many months.
“Has anyone ever told you you have delicious cum? I can guarantee you have been eating cinnamon recently. It’s funny how cum tastes of cinnamon if you’ve been eating it.
“Now lie on the bed and get your breath back. Even at our stage in life the first time for a long time is a bit of a quicky.”
“Sorry.” I said, realising I hadn’t even touched her body, let alone made any attempt to pleasure her.
“Don’t be sorry,” she replied, “there is plenty of time.” And set about massaging my back as I collapsed on the bed face down trying to rationalise what had just happened.
She sat astride my thighs and ran her hands and breasts up and down my back and buttocks sometimes exploring right up to the sensitive area of my little rose. The sensations were sublime and I could have tolerated the treatment all day but it was time to ‘balance the books.’
“I think it is your turn for some attention, maybe a back rub?” We changed positions and I tried out my long dormant massage skills.
Judging by the contented sounds, my skills had not totally evaporated. I enjoyed massaging her back and buttocks. I moved to the foot of the bed and worked on her calf muscles and thighs.
A stroke I learned long ago was to place one hand each side of the foot and massage all the way up to the buttock, then allow my hands to slide off sideways, the fingers of the inside hand just grazing that divine divide. The fact that she was waxed just made it all the more erotic.
One leg done, the second started, and much to my delight and surprise I felt the start of another erection brewing. I asked deneme bonus her to roll over, which she did with eyes closed and legs slightly parted.
I used the same strokes on the front of her legs and was delighted with her murmurs of approval and the hint of moisture appearing between the lips of her vagina as my fingers lightly traced the path of her cleft. I couldn’t resist lowering my face into the valley between her legs and nibbling gently oh her inner thighs.
“Oh, that’s good!” She breathed, “so good.”
I nibbled, blew my hot breath on her most sensitive area which slowly opened like a flower, allowing me to dip my tongue into her sex.
“That really is, so good.”
I grasped the moment and started to lick her clitoris with deliberate upward movements of my tongue.
I tried not to rush things but was surprised by how my penis was coming back to life. I hadn’t had sex for months, and not twice in one day for more years than I care to remember, but this voluptuous woman was definitely turning me on.
I massaged her breasts, which were delightfully soft and compliant, her stomach and then as I worked my way back down south to finish what I had started, I felt her hand circle my swelling penis.
“I really want it inside me.”
Her knees bent, her feet came up on the bed, and her legs parted invitingly.
“Please, put it in. I want you to fill me. Just to feel you inside.” I allowed my cock to find its own way to her welcoming sex. I slid the tip just inside her and paused.
“Oh yes. As slowly as you like.” I inched my way in so so slowly, against almost no resistance, the nerves in the head of my cock revelling in sensations not felt for ages. Nature took over and we started a slow languorous shag withdrawing almost completely then starting the slow, exquisite, return to full penetration.
She crossed both her arms behind her head as if stretching like a cat.
“Hold me down. Hold me down while you take me…
I took her wrists in one hand and supported my weight with the other.
“Yes just like that.” It was a new experience for me, being lead and I have to say I liked it. It took all the guess work out of it and I knew she was getting what she desired.
“Faster now.” As I stayed buried deep within her. I fucked: fucked with the enthusiasm of a much younger man. Her mons came up to meet me on every stroke. We fucked each other, working gradually towards the inevitable release.
I could hardly believe it but the signals were there. I was getting ready to cum! For the second time today I was going to cum.
“I’m close.” I breathed into her ear, still pinning her wrists to the bed.
“Look me in the eyes and say it again.” I pushed up on my arms, raised my body over hers, stared right into her eyes.
“I’m really close.”
“Fuck! That’s sexy. Talk to me. Keep talking!
“I’m about to cum. I can feel my cum welling up inside me ready to pump deep inside you.”
“I’m actually coming. Right now. Can you feel it? Can you feel it happening? Oh my god.” Several violent contractions shook my body and I collapsed.
“That was wonderful,” she said gently, wrapping her arms over my buttocks, “the look on your face when you actually came was magical. I do love it when a man tells me what he’s feeling. I try to imagine being a man and pumping my sperm into a woman but it’s not as good as being told.”
We rolled sideways and cuddled when I started to feel guilty.
“Yes, oh yes. Once during the oral but another would be nice.”
She rolled onto her back, spread her legs, took my hand and placed it gently on her mons.
“One finger, very lightly, very slowly make little circles.” I had never had lessons in female masturbation before, but I was revelling in it. I propped myself up on one arm and followed instructions. As her breathing got shallower I speeded up hoping to bring her to orgasm.
“No, slower, slow right down…
“Yes like that…
“Now lighter still, feather light touches…
“Oh my god, that’s it. Just keep doing that…
“Oh fuck!” Her legs clamped shut on my hand and she shuddered.
Afterwards we discussed our likes and dislikes, as we bathed in the afterglow when, to my delight, she said.
“That’s something to try next time.”
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