Written by Stanoutwest

Fiction
9/09/2015


I was on the beach yesterday, out at Piha; it's one of my favourites. For me it has everything a beach should have; broad stretches of sand, blue, blue sea with dazzling white surf, and the roar of the ocean. Some find it a bit rugged, but I like my beaches with some interest; I like something to see apart from just sand and ocean. I like the rocks and pools, and the cliffs and hills.

It’s a beautiful place for a walk if you can put away the world for a while, and just enjoy nature doing its thing in an unspoiled way. I went to the North end and halfway back again before I sat down in the sun on the sandbank at the start of the dunes.

There weren't many people around, which is how I like it. They were mostly surfers on their way to and from the ocean, or couples, or dog walkers.

I sat and watched the waves for a while as they piled up, curled over and collapsed onto the sea below. I watched the seabirds, and I watched the walkers slowly making their way along the water's edge.

It was hot. I’d brought a small pack with my shorts and towel with me in case I wanted a swim to cool off.

I decided I wanted to cool off, and changed on the beach. There was nobody remotely close, so it wasn't like I was flashing my stuff in public, but it still seemed a little odd to be stood there starkers for a few moments while I stepped out of shorts and undies and onto my swimming togs. Apart from having no pockets, and being made of different cloth, my swimming shorts are really no different from my day shorts. You’d call them modest; they're definitely not ‘budgie smugglers’.

I’m well into my fifties, and fairly trim as I get a decent amount of exercise, but I can still see no reason to go around flaunting my stuff like a 20 year old gigolo. In fact, I cringe when I see that. I always wonder “what are they thinking” when I see some old git like me, wearing a pair of “budgie smugglers”, chains drooped all around his neck, and his gut hanging over his togs. Even worse, sometimes just to complete the image, he’ll be wearing a see-through singlet. Not many men can do the see-through singlet thing successfully. Very few in their fifties can, and none in their fifties can carry this off with beer gut and medallion. I’m no Adonis, and it’s far too late to start pretending that I am. If you ever see me walking down the beach in a pair of budgie smugglers and see-through top... please shoot me. Use both barrels.

No, that’s not me. I just get changed, get into the water (trying to pretend it’s not cold as it reaches the dangly bits), have a rinse, rub and a float about for a bit, and then I’m done.

Back on the sand I towelled off and sat back, happy to sit and watch the day go by again.

My attention was drawn to a lady walking along the water's edge, coming from my left. She had a large old straw hat on, a plain light coloured top with vertical stripes, and a royal blue skirt to just above her knees. She wasn't dressed up for a night at the Opera, she was just dressed to be comfortable on a hot day.

She took off the hat and held it in her hand, letting the wind through her hair. I could see her more clearly now. She had ‘salt and pepper' hair, wore little or no makeup, and perhaps had a couple of years on me. Some might say that she had a “fuller figure”, but I call it “comely”… a welcoming wholesome shape that usually indicates a warm nature.

I watched as she walked along, just on the waterline. Sometimes she was on dry sand, but at others she stepped through an inch or so of water like it wasn't there... or it was something so familiar that it didn't distract her from her thoughts. Whatever was going through her mind, she didn’t break stride or even flinch when a rush of cold water washed over her feet.

She was the kind of lady that captures my attention; the kind that I'm attracted to.

I like a body to be generous; just how generous doesn't really bother me, I just don’t like bony.

For me, hugs with thin people are uncomfortable. You go up close, but largely avoid chest contact, you reach your arms around trying not to touch too much on the way, and you pull back gently as you’re obliged to do. But when you do that what you feel is ribs. I don’t like that.

With a better upholstered lady it’s altogether different. You reach around, and you have whole armfuls. Your chest presses up against her boobs, your hips meet, and your hands are met by a soft and cushioned back.

I find hugging someone skinny is almost unpleasant, but with a better framed lady it’s a momentary delight, just like that first taste of chocolate after you bite it.

The lady walking on the beach wasn't a super model. She wasn't skinny as a rake, and she wasn't 21 (with the mind of a 12 year old) either. She had some miles under her belt. I wasn't close enough to tell, but I’m sure there were some wrinkles around the eyes. I like that, and I prefer them natural, not painted over. There’s no point in hiding the years. It’s superficial to try, and exposed by even the shortest conversation.

I prefer the company of more mature ladies as they play fewer games. Younger women weave complex plots in their lives and conversations. They are layered with nuances and subtlety that more worldly ladies don’t use on men; they've worked out how desperately simple we are. They know that we will completely miss all the signs and signals. If they want us to do something, or not do something, then they know that the way to do this is to tell us in plain and simple language. We get it then, otherwise we remain just dumb, confused men.

Life is easier around mature ladies, and I like that; I don’t need complicated, and I don’t need to be deliberately confused or mislead.

The lady on the beach had caught my imagination, and on that lazy afternoon in the sun… my mind wandered.

I was in her motel room. We were standing in the kitchen, and we were in that first cautious embrace. I had my hands on her sides’ level with her breasts, my chest met her bust lightly, and our hips were just, faintly touching.

I ran my hands lightly up and down her sides, very slowly, and barely touching. They moved easily across the smooth fabric of her top, and I kept them moving, slowly, and lightly. I broadened the circle of my movements slightly; a little higher, a little lower, a little further back, and little further forward; slow, light and deliberate touches.

My thumbs now ran down her sides, across her hips, up her abdomen to the hollow under her breasts and back out to her sides, my fingers sweeping a broader path. I felt the stiffness in her back relax, and this moved her fraction closer to me. Now I could feel her chest fully on me, and her hips against mine.

I looked a moment at her eyes; they had closed.

This is going to be wonderful I thought.

I brushed over the fabric of her top lightly. My thumbs ran in a slow line a line down from under her arms, and down to her waist, where I rolled them in slightly towards her midriff. As I moved my thumbs my fingers followed, tracing a path down her back and to her hips before reaching inwards and running up again until my thumbs stopped against the fullness of her breasts. My hands floated smoothly across the material, which was slightly stretched over her full body; my fingers following the rising and falling contours of her torso. Her skin yielded to the touch, and I savoured that warm softness, and spread my fingers to find more of it.

Mayleen (it probably wasn't her real name) was relaxing now. The initial anxiety of how she would feel being in a stranger’s embrace was subsiding, and I gently found more of her body.

She lifted her hands to the tops of my arms and we looked into each other. We kissed lightly for the first time; slowly and tentatively, each testing the others’ reaction. At first it was just a brushing of the lips, but then as confidence grew, we pressed together.

I ran my tongue along her top lip, left to right and back, then did the same on the bottom one, before moving back to the top. Then I traced her lips all the way around in slow, light circuits, only just touching her with the tip of my tongue, before stopping at the top, opening my mouth across her whole lip and lightly drawing it into me. I ran my tongue across the outside of the lip once more before tasting her smooth, moistened inner skin for the first time.

I felt the hot breath from her nose as she exhaled unsteadily, and parted her lips.

I ran my tongue around the inside of her lips now, and her tongue came to mine. At first, just the tips of our tongues touched, then we began circling each other, and slowly our mouths pressed more and more firmly together as we gradually explored deeper.

Her hands moved to the back of my shoulders, gently pulled me to her, and I tingled as I felt her whole length against me. Her breasts expanded across me and I felt her warmth, now continuous along my length from my chest, to my waist and hips, and thighs.

My heart was thumping now, and my breathing unsteady through my nose. As she pulled me close she pressed her tongue into me; circling around mine and reaching round inside my mouth, deeper and deeper until we were stroking the whole length of our tongues against the other’s.

Then, she lifted her lips from mine, and tilted her head back.

“How about that cup of tea then?” she said.

The introductions had been successfully made, and now she slowed the pace; it was too urgent, and would be over far too soon.

“That would be lovely” I said softly to her eyes.

She ran her hands down my arms into to mine, held them for a moment, and said, “Why don’t you go and sit in the lounge, while I find where all the bits and pieces are”.

I moved into the motel “lounge”… it was only three paces away. I sat on the sofa, on the right hand side leaving plenty of room for her to join me there, and I watched as Mayleen found what was available; Tea bags and sugar were on the top, small pots of milk were in the fridge and cups and saucers were in a cupboard under the sink. It seemed forever before the kettle boiled. Mayleen looked across at me every now and again as I waited, her eyes bright, and her face in a shy girly smile.

Finally the water went in, cups and spoons rattled onto the saucers, and she came over, a cup in each hand.

“I hope it all right" she said, "it’s just what they have” and sat down close to me on the sofa.

We just touched at the knees, and I thrilled again.

I’m sure it’s lovely” I said. It wouldn't have mattered if it had tasted like stewed newspaper… I’d have said it was fine today.

We looked at each other for a moment, then I leaned across, my left hand under her right breast, my right arm resting on her left upper arm and kissed her again gently. Her right arm came up to draw me in, and her left arm wriggled round the cushions of the couch to complete the encirclement.

We stayed there, lips just touching and I lightly moved up my hand until it was cupping her full breast, supporting its mass from underneath and lifting very lightly. There was a wonderful weight in my hand, a weight that moved to my touch and tried to overflow my hand. I squeezed very slightly and lifted upwards and inwards, her breast now pressed crumpled cloth firmly into my hand; my palm and fingers, teasing me about the skin just beyond. It was glorious.

Mayleen breathed out long and slow, and her eyes closed again.

I moved my hand steadily now, as steadily as I could. The adrenalin was flowing, my heart was pounding, and there was a faint tremor in my fingers from the excitement.

I moved my hand slowly round her magnificent breast. It wasn't a light touch, there was a little pressure, but it wasn't as hard as a rub. It was enough to make her breast deform as I touched it, and I watched as her boob lifted and flowed under my touch. I moved my hand from the lowest part I could touch, in the fold on the underside, lifted, and then slowly circled around her whole breast to come back to cupping her again.

We kissed again, less urgently this time, our lips touched, and our tongues met in a soft embrace.

I moved my hand up to the back of her neck, weaving my fingers into the hair on the back of her head, and stroking my thumb up and down the sides of her neck; and then I pulled back and sat upright again.

Now, looking into her eyes, I put my hands on both her breasts, stoking up, over their tops, down her sides, and across her midriff, before coming back again up to rest supporting the full width of her breast. She pushed me back slightly, sat up a little, pulled the blouse out of her skirt, and undid the buttons all the way down. Then she reached behind and unclasped her bra, and her breasts slumped and bounced beautifully; lower and wider.

She took both my hands in hers and pulled them lightly to her, placing them back on her breasts. I wasn't resisting. I spread my fingers across the tops of her breasts and ran my thumbs up and down into her cleavage, then I turned my hands outwards slowly to cover all her skin, around to the sides, to underneath again, exploring where the fold under her boobs met her chest and sides. I moved my hands right under them both, my little fingers dragging slightly on the damp skin inside the fold, and lifted her breasts right out of the bra. And there they sat, fully revealed; wide, full and free on a bed of crumpled lace.

They were magnificent. I sat and admired them for a while. Full and round, smooth and pale they captivated me.

Mayleen was lying back on the couch, and this made them rest open and apart. The tops, and the skin flesh her sternum were tanned, and slightly weather worn, and the rest was silky smooth. The contours changed seamlessly from the tops to the sides and through the folds where her breasts joined her body. The parts I couldn’t see were as alluring as the visible. The skin on the underside of her breast, where it sat against her fleshy chest, screamed at me to touch it. Her dark areolas stood slightly proud of the line of her breast, with her nipples in the centre, darker and pinker. They were sat nearly flat on the surface of the areola. “That needs changing”, I thought.

The correct literal term for the shape of Aileen’s breasts would be “oblate spheroid”. But to me, “gorgeous” seemed more fitting.

Resisting the urge to go straight for the nipple, I leaned forward until my nose touched between her breasts and put my tongue onto her for the first time. I pressed it broadly onto her skin and moved it side to side, picking up the saltiness in the folds under her boobs, then I moved slowly up. My hand was cupping her left breast, and I used this to press her to my face as I licked, first inside, then underneath, then up the side of her breast before getting to the top. I lifted away slightly and moved my mouth to above her nipple. Opening my mouth, I breathed out slowly letting the warm breath flow across her.

Moving back onto her I circled her boob with a broad tongue before sweeping the point around her areola, and finally fixing my mouth over her nipple and sucking. Not releasing the suction, I opened my mouth wide, to let me lick around her areola, and closed it up again to circle her nipple. I sucked her into my mouth and circled my tongue. She was quite firm now, and I gently toyed the nipple between my teeth, flicking back and forth with my tongue.

Mayleen was breathing quicker and more shallowly now. Her hands came to the back of my head and pulled me tight into her bosom. I kept working my tongue around her nipple, but with my nose now pressed into her breast, I couldn’t breathe properly. I pulled back for some air, and I saw Mayleen’s eye pop open. She didn’t speak, but her eyes said “How dare you stop!”

I shifted slightly and moved my mouth over her other nipple, my right thumb my rolling around and around the wet one that I’d just abandoned.

I ran my tongue wide around it first before sucking a whole mouthful into my mouth. My teeth dragged across her nipple and areola as I drew her in. A hand came back to my head, holding me there. I could just breathe in this position, but it was awkward, and I think Mayleen could feel the twitching of my back as I strained to stay there.

“We should go somewhere more comfortable she said quietly”, and let my head go. I straightened up, my neck and back relieved to take a short rest. She lightly pressed me back, drew her blouse back across her chest, and moved to the bedroom door.

“Don’t come in until I open the door” she said with a girly little smile on her lips and the sparkle of a temptress in her eye.

The door closed, and I sat back, resting my stretched muscles. It had seemed like an age waiting for the kettle to boil, and now there was another break. I leaned back, closed my eyes and tried to calm myself, but it wasn't long before I heard the door handle squeak. The door opened a couple of inches, and stayed there. There was no sound from inside.

I got up, and moved to the door. I stepped silently though and stood, awed by the sight before me.

Mayleen was lying naked in the middle of the double bed. She was lying face down, her head turned away from me. Her arms were stretched out, with her hands under the pillows. Her hair covered her neck and lay loose across her shoulders.

Her shoulder shape was enhanced by the position of the arms and her boobs extended out past her sides; they were squeezed, tight and bulging by the pressure of her body above. My eyes ran down to her sumptuous buttocks, to her ankles, and then up again to her knees and luscious thighs.

Her legs weren't straight out; she had her left knee lifted high which left her hips slightly turned on the bed. This showed me the full curve of her buttock on her left side, and exposed the whole inner thigh of her right leg. My eyes were seized, not by the thighs, but by the delicious way they joined at the top.

“Paradise by the dashboard light” (Meatloaf) rang through my head.

Her pose was exquisitely provocative, if it was by chance, then it was a divine accident. Her thighs and buttocks met to just, and only just, obscure her pussy from my sight. I stooped momentarily unable to restrain my curiosity and caught a glimpse of her wispy pubic hair and a hint of the creased lips beyond.

“Oh my”, I said softly, “you are just gorgeous”.

I slipped out of my sandals, took my shirt off, and loosed the knot that gathered my shorts closed, then knelt on the bed beside her thighs. I put both hands on the top of her buttocks and moved them up slowly, working my thumbs around the bottom of her spine, then ran my hands smoothly all the way up her back until my hands slid under her hair, and up to the top of her neck. I wove my fingers through the hair on the back of her neck, and came back down her neck and spine.

I was desperate to feel more. I put my hands on the bed below her arms and leaned my whole body on top of her. I lay my arms on her arms, and my legs on her legs. Apart from my shorts it was the most possible skin on skin contact we could achieve. It was both exciting and luxurious.

I knew I couldn't stay on her like that long, my weight on her would be uncomfortable, but in a few moments my dick inflated to its full capacity. I put my mouth around her ear lobe and sucked and chewed gently and nuzzled into her neck. I could feel the pressure of my stiff penis pressing against me, and pressing into the cleft between her bum cheeks; and I knew she could feel it too.

“hmmm” she murmured.

She flexed her hips slowly up and down, and clenched and unclenched her cheeks around my shaft, as if in encouragement. But I didn't need encouraging.

I lifted myself up onto my knees, and knelt between her legs, my right leg just touching the inside of her thigh.

I worked my thumbs up her spine and wound my fingers into the hair at the top of her neck spreading my fingers wide around her ears and neck. Using broad soft hands I swept across the back of her shoulders and smoothed my fingers down her flanks, around her breasts and her waist and swept round onto the bottom of her buttocks and then back up her spine. I circled like this, winding the hair on the back of her head, and working her bum cheeks upwards from the folds where they met her legs. As I circled I was pressing more firmly now; up the line of her cheeks crack to the base of her spine, out to her waist and back in to where her thighs and bum cheeks met. Each time I went round I worked my thumbs a little deeper. Deeper into her inner thighs and deeper into her bum crack.

I moved both hands onto her left cheek, and squeezed them up and out, then round and back again. My hands flowed around, my trailing fingers reaching down along her bum crease and around to her inner thigh. There was the lightest touch of hair as I pushed once more up over her buttock before running both hands, one on the inside and one on the outside, down the length of her leg to her ankle.

With my fingers now spanning all the way round her calf, I came back up again with steady pressure, squeezing the flesh upwards until my right hand was stopped where her inner thigh met her torso. There was light perspiration on the skin there, and it made her skin slightly sticky, gripping my fingers slightly as I moved them. Mayleen’s skin stretched a little, bounced a fraction and sprang back in tiny judders as I passed until I again reached the smooth dry skin of her thigh. I went down and then back up from her ankle, stopping this time at her knee, rolling my thumbs around the hollow before moving on to the top of her thigh again smoothing up her thigh with a broad hand. This time, as my left hand reached the top of her inner thigh she moved, arching her back - rotating her bum up to me, and she lifted her left knee even higher.

She was making herself available to me; to my sight, and to my touch. But inviting as it was, I wasn’t going there just yet.

I declined the offer.

I took her left knee and ankle, pulled the ankle down, and straightened out her leg; not straight, but out at an angle. Then I took her right leg, and set it at a similar angle on the other side. She lay face down on the bed, legs straight and wide apart. In that position she was lying completely exposed, vulnerable and available.

It only took a moment to drop my shorts before I had both hands back on her again, this time around her left ankle, gliding upwards right to the top of her thighs. As I neared the top I slowed, then really slow until my right hand brushed her hairs and came up firm against her torso. My thumb was in the line of the crease of her buttock, and I reached forward, sliding my hand through to her front, and then back again around and over her bum.

Then with both hands on her buttocks I drew them down slowly, turned my hands in so the fingers of both hands brushed her hairs, and worked slowly up and down the top few inches of her inner thighs.

Up came her bum again and she turned her hips to show me her pussy.

Then she surprised me.

She brought both hands down behind her, and reached her fingers around the tops of her thighs, as far as she could. She pulled back with her hands and simultaneously spread her legs even wider and arched her back hard.

Mayleen, who you would easily visualise as the lady at the Womens Institute stall selling preserves at the weekend market, was suddenly the sexiest person on the planet.

She had my immediate and complete attention, and I was immediately and completely stood to attention. “Boooiiiing! Said Zebadee” [for those old enough to understand that]

For a moment I was stunned.

I looked into her fabulous pussy, but she was taking charge now. She pulled and relaxed with her fingers, stretching her pussy lips apart and then closing again. Her juice was clearly visible, and the first drops oozed from between her lips as they closed. “Mayleen, you are absolutely stunning” I said.

“She’s talking to you Stan”, she said quietly, and then she moved again.

With her feet hanging over the end of the bed she pushed herself backwards kneeling, until her bum was high in the air, and her head on the linen. She’d pushed me back, and I was now on my knees on the floor with her pussy straight in front of me.

Her hands came back again, and she opened herself wide.

This is why I love older ladies so much. They seem so innocent to look at, but there’s a delicious wickedness inside.

I looked into her. She had her fingertips over her labia, so they were pulled open too. Inside the pink skin was shiny with her syrup. A little glob was pooling thickly at the top of her lips, and the tip her clitoris was just peeping out. Then there was her black hole, slick and shining with her juice, inviting me in.

“Aren’t you going to talk to the lady?” came Mayleen’s voice again… and yes, I most certainly was!

I ran my thumbs up and down the back of her thighs and up to hers. I moved her hands aside, and took that position myself.

Leaning in I licked slowly around between her lips and her thighs, and then moved in. I drew her lips into my mouth, first the left, then the right, sucking and pinching them in my teeth. I let them go and moved onto the soft pink skin inside, licking broadly up and down each side before running ran my tongue into her; bottom to top up along her length, and I heard her heavy trembling sigh as my tongue momentarily pressed deep inside her..

I used my thumbs to pull her right lip open again, licking up and down the smooth, pink and wet flesh inside with a broad tongue, and switched to inside her left lip, and then back again. Then I ran my tongue in a broad zigzag sweep all the way up her, dipping into and around her hole firmly and finally up over her clitoris. She shuddered again and the sigh turned to an extended “ooooooh” as I lingered.

I backed off, and with one hand on her hip and one on her knee I motioned her to turn over. She rolled onto her back near the end of her bed, my head between her thighs, and I went back to her.

I ran my tongue slowly all the way up her, loitering now over her clitoris, and she pressed onto me. I sucked her lips in one at a time, and licked around inside her lips, and back to her clitoris. Then in a firm broad movement I swept up her again, this time stopping to press deep into her hole and work my tongue around her opening. She was soaking inside, almost gushing on me as I reached in before moving again up to her clitoris.

Each time at the top now I stayed longer on her clit; working up and down each side and searching out the bare tip. And I licked inside her lips from bottom to top, sometimes straight up and down, and sometimes zig-zagging up to the top. Each time I passed over her entrance I pressed deep and reached around and around, and each time I heard the sharp intake of breath as Mayleen responded to my touch.

Now, I came up to concentrate on clitoris. I closed my lips over it, and worked my tongue all around and then up and down it’s length, using the point of my tongue to apply pressure onto her, and flicking from side to side. It drew immediate response.

Mayleen wriggled under me, and pressed herself hard onto me and then started to move around. Her hips lifted and I realised she was pushing a pillow under her bum to raise and turn her pussy to me. I’d been teasing Mayleen earlier, but she wasn’t letting me tease any more.

When I went back to her clitoris, she began to pant and moan more vigorously. She wasn’t the upstanding lady in the straw hat any more, she was wanton.

Mayleen drew her knees back to her shoulders and her hands came onto the back of my head pulling me on hard. She was keeping me there until she’d finished with me.

Mayleen was rocking her hips, and coo-ing at each change of my movement. I rotated around my actions; down into her hole and around the entry, long and broad laps up her length, zig-zagging firm licks from side to side moving up, broad flat strokes around the insides of her lips. When I needed to relax my jaw and tongue a little I switched back to her labia, drawing them in one by one, nibbling, chewing gently and licking them before running a wide flat tongue all the way from her perineum up to her clitoris again.

Each time I locked my lips around her clitoris and sucked her grip tightened and she ground hard onto me. I was working up and down the sides now and peeling back her hood, and using my tongue on that stretch of that smooth, most sensitive part of her.

She was climbing fast, and getting close. The whimpering increased audibly as I closed over her clitoris and now I began sucking it into my mouth and running the point of my tongue up and down its length and flicking across, her legs shuddering at each new renewed contact.

I wet the index and middle fingers of my right hand in my mouth and pressed them into her slowly their whole length. There was no resistance, she was both wet and willing. She drew in a long shuddering breath as I entered her, her hips rotated and pushed onto them and I could feel her gripping hard. She was going to come soon, but I didn’t want to bring her on too fast. I wanted to make her orgasm to be high, slow and long.

I worked my fingers steadily in and out, drawing my tips firmly over the g-spot as they passed. I stopped deep in her and widened and closed them, and switched them up and down, and then back to in and out pressing along her roof at each pass. I moved my fingers alternately deep, and shallow, curling and straightening as I stroked inside her pussy.

I was working her clitoris continuously now, only moving away to lick around inside her labia lips, before going back onto it, sucking her in and pressing the tip of my tongue hard around, up and down, and side to side across the cartilage lump.

The wriggling and moaning was continuous, with little squeaks breaking through the spaces in her panting, rising in pitch. And she came, slow, long and rolling. At first just her legs trembled but then her hips began to spasm, bruising my lips as she smashed me hard onto her. I moved with her, never slipping off the spot for more than a few moments when her convulsing dislodged me, and she kept going.

As she abated slightly I slowed and softened my tongue and finger, before steadily working back up again to firmer licks up and down her clitoris, sucking her in and working my tongue over the exposed flesh, and speeding up my fingers over her g-spot.

Her orgasms were nearly continuous, and she locked me onto her so that we moved as a single mass, thrashing and jolting with her spasms. Her breathing was taut and irregular interspersed with grunts, squawks and gasps as each new tremor passed through her.

Eventually her heaving slowed, and her grip on my head finally relaxed. I slowed and softened my actions and gently withdrew. Mayleen just lay there, gasping and shuddering from the last remnants of her peak.

Pulling myself up onto the bed, we spooned. I stroked her head, breasts and waist, slow wide and soft, and kissed her neck as she slowly began to calm. I nuzzled into her hair and neck and held her close as her breathing levelled and steadied.

I must have dozed off for a moment. It was February when I slept, but Christmas when I woke.

I came to with the delicious sensation of a warm tongue slowly moving up and down the length of my stiffening cock.

Mayleen had moved. She was squatted across my right leg, with her mouth on me. Her right hand held me and she was licking in slow broad motions. She saw my eyes open and looked at me lewdly. She put her mouth right over me and slowly took me in deep. A muffled gurgling giggle came from her and she smiled as she looked at me, insofar as a lady can smile with a mouthful of dick. The glint in her eyes though said she was having fun and that hadn’t finished with me yet.

Now that she had my attention she kept looking at me as she drew slowly up, worked her tongue around my head then pulled back slightly more. She opened her mouth wide and made a show of licking me broadly over my glans, like she was licking an iced cream. Then she licked up and down my length, and went back over me; slowly all the way down until my glans pressed hard on the back of her mouth. The passage of her warm, wet lips up and down me was just heavenly.

The lady selling preserves was nowhere in sight.

I could feel her tongue working around the whole length of my shaft. She took me in deep again, my glans to the back of her mouth and she pressed up and down the last inch that she could manage. Then she pulled back slowly, sucking hard and pressing my cock against the roof of her mouth with her tongue.

This lady, that looked she was a life member of the Women’s Institute, had certainly done this a few times before… “I wonder if they do a course?” I mused.

I watched as she continued. She fondled my balls and worked the base of my shaft with her hand as she alternated from sucking and licking around my head to taking me fully into her mouth. Now, as she went down I was reaching up, extending into her as far as she could take. There was a gurgling giggle again as she enjoyed the response she was causing. Now she was watching me as she worked, watching as I looked upwards, began to breathe heavier, and began pushing into her.

She was still highly aroused from the thorough licking she’d had earlier but wasn’t finished for the day, and she wasn’t going to let me come like that. She lifted her mouth off me, licked my length a couple of times for good measure, then straightened up and looked at her handiwork, still stroking me up and down. Then she straddled me, placed my head in her entrance and settled down.

She was still soaking wet and hot, and I shuddered a little as her tight pussy closed itself around my cock. She slid me all the way home, closed her eyes and “ooohhh-ed”. She wriggled herself into the position of maximum penetration then moved her left hand down and started stroking her clitoris. Her muscles clenched around me the moment she touched it, and she stayed there, frigging herself and rocking rotating her hips around with me fully inside her.

As she started to ride me I reached up and put my hands around her waist, and ran them up over her shoulders and around and over her magnificent breasts. She put her hands on my shoulders, pinning me down her hair hanging across my face and lowered her breasts to me. I strained up and drew her left nipple into my mouth and sucked and nipped as she rocked and bounced on me.

As well as moving up and down she was rocking her hips. I could feel my glans as it flicked across deep inside her, and I could feel her excitement rising as she clenched and relaxed herself onto me. I switched to nipping her right breast as her breathing became erratic and her body started to shake with minor tremors.

What had previously been gentle and prolonged now became passionate and urgent. Mayleen stepped the pace up and began to ride me with the vigour of a 20 year old, breathless and sweaty. She was plunging hard and rotating her hips the full extent that my dick up her pussy permitted. She was frigging furiously and she could tell from my breathing, closed eyes and urgent thrusting that I was close too.

I moved my hands down to her hips forcing her onto me and I held her there, grinding into her. She rocked and lunged, forcing me around inside her, until I couldn’t hold back any longer and exploded deep and powerfully into her. She was moaning and twitching too under another orgasm and “ooooh”-ed as she felt me jolting and spurting into her.

Mayleen flopped down onto me and held tight as she squirmed around on me extracting the last from her orgasm; gripping, twitching and trembling. We lay there fully against each other. I ran my hands over her back and buttocks as I slowly subsided until she slid from me and we lay face to face in close embrace. We kissed slow, and long as I stroked her head, neck and shoulders.

This time I dozed properly.

When I awoke, it wasn’t in the motel, it was back on the beach, and, as my senses resumed full consciousness I became acutely aware of a very large and prominent erection. Now I don’t know what it’s like where you come from, but in New Zealand you don’t go strutting around on the beach showing off your raging boner… it’s just not done. But, there’s also no way to conceal one when you’re only wearing swimming shorts!

I looked up and down the beach, and to my great relief there was nobody in either direction for over a hundred metres, so I strode manfully (and somewhat uncomfortably) to the sea again.

A thorough rinse around in cold water remedied the potential embarrassment, and a couple of minutes later I was back on the sand drying in the late afternoon sun.

It would have been really nice to say here that I discovered Mayleen’s phone number written in lipstick on my arm… but it wasn’t like that. Mayleen, the wanton W.I. was just a daydream, no more than a very pleasant fiction. It left only a very warm and satisfying memory… and a head of pressure that would need to be relieved in the showers back at the campsite.


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