Friday, September 12, 2008

Older Man

Written by Kim Cantwell (November 2000)

It was the summer before my second year of college when I met Bob. I guess I always had a thing for older men, but Bob was something special. He was in his early fifties when I had my affair with him, when I was just 19.

He had a silver tinge in his hair, and crows� feet around his eyes. I thought he looked really distinguished and handsome, barely betraying his age since he worked out so much. He always dressed nicely when he came into the restaraunt where I was working as a waitress.
He always requested to sit at a table near the window which was one of my tables, and for the longest time I thought it was for the view onto St Charles avenue, a beautiful street in New Orleans. Claire, the other waitress on my shift, said it was because I was the view, as she noticed him watching my ass walk away with his order.

Let me tell you what he saw: I'm 5�4, and my measurements were (and still are!) 34�-32�-36� and I wear a size B breast cup. I'm a brunette and my friends say that I remind them of Winona Ryder.At the time I wore my hair really short, with barrettes (now its very long, down to my shoulders). I don't wear much make-up, except for shadow every once in a while. At work we all had to wear a white blouse and a tight black skirt.

Chez Jean was a small restaurant with French-Meditteranean themes. The men were in the back, making the food and busing dishes, while the women stayed up front. There was Claire and myself, Sarah, the tall, beautiful but bitchy maitresse d.....and Holly the floor manager. One of the busboys, Jamal, had a crush on me, and expressed it in the most vulgar ways, by brushing his hard-on against me one time, and by touching me when - well I'm getting off the topic - Claire trained me.
One trick she taught me was when you had a table full of men, you could get better tips if you unbuttoned your blouse some, and let them see some cleavage. Holly approved of this tactic since it usually translated into regular customers who would often buy wine, as if trying to impress her waitresses. After watching Claire do it a bunch of times I tried it out too.

It was weird at first, especially when the customer would give his order to your tits, but in time, as tips grew bigger (as if they were trying to dare us to show more!), I started to not mind so much and it was even funny too. Bob was a big tipper. He liked to chat me up whenever he could, and I let him. First because I thought I would get a big tip, but then it was fun too because he was interesting and could tell good jokes. One time I decided to give him a special treat.

He looked so handsome in his blue blazer and gold colored tie that I unbuttoned another button and when I presented the bill to him his eyes nearly popped out when my breasts swung out toward him. While they were enclosed by my bra, it wouldn't have taken imagination to x-ray through those pyramid shaped cups to reveal the lily white mounds underneath them, or their sharp pink tips. He gasped, and his eyes lit up.

He smiled and looked at me, cooly taking the bill from my hand. He left me half the bill as tip. I went to tell Claire while Jamal was cleaning up after him. I saw Jamal picking up Bob's wallet and ran over and grabbed it from him.
Jamal started to say something but I went out the door looking for Bob. He was in the parking lot, getting in a white Jaguar. I raced over to him, 'sir, sir, you forgot your wallet.� He stopped moving and rolled down the window.
'Call me Bob� he said, smiling. Thank you so much, he said.
I leaned over to give the wallet to him but he ignored my breasts, squished together, and looked in my eyes.
'You have the most beautiful green eyes'� he said.
'You have the most beautiful blue eyes'� I said.
Shocked at myself for flirting so shamelessly I blushed but he smiled at me, cooling my embarrasment. 'Do you like boats?' He asked.
'Dunno, never been on one' I said.

A few days passed, he called me at work and asked if I would like to go boating with him. I declined but he insisted so I thought why not? He came to pick me up from my mom's house on Friday.
We drove to the lakeshore and got on a big boat. It was really hot out so I wore a blue and white shoulderless tank-top and white short-shorts and jellies. He had on a t-shirt and swimming trunks.
He was really well built, in both hemispheres, so to speak. We cast off and were soon on the lake. Drinking pretty much turns me into a super slut, something that I was only learning at the time, and so I didn't mind at all when he brought out the wine. After a few glasses I was up and dancing for him.

I felt so free and excited that my nipples became erect and sensitive to the breeze. He watched me smiling, and took off his shirt. I was getting really drunk, laughing at nothing, giggling at my own silliness. I went into the cabin to get into my swimsuit. It was a purple one piece, and a little too tight for me. When I got upstairs again, Bob was lying on one of the chairs, sunbathing. Drunk off my ass, I took the lotion and started to rub him down, first on his back and then on his chest. As I made my way down to his trunks I could the trunk of his cock begin to shape-shift, growing in size and pointing right at me. When I was a little girl, I often watched my mother with her string of boyfriends.

I first learned about sex when I watched her sit on her boyfriends lap. She must of thought I had gone inside to watch TV, but instead I watched in shock as Peter petered my mother.
She had pulled her swimsuit bottom to the side and shuddered with joy as Peter penetrated her until he came in her.

The next day I was out in the pool, mom was inside and Peter was sunbathing, and half asleep. With fear and curiosity dominating my every breath I got out of the pool and sat next to Peter.
He looked up at me and smiled and touched my wet hair. I jumped on top of him with only my arms touching the sides of his face and asked him if he loved my mother.

Of course I do, silly, he said.
He touched my cheek. I rested my bottom on his pelvis, the giant worm of his penis squirming for air between the cool and wet folds of my inner thighs.
He was becoming rigid, and embarrased.
He said 'sweetie, your not old enough'� his hand trying to remove my body from his but I pressed into him even harder, and touched the flat templates of my future breasts through the swimsuit I was thinking about that while I rubbed Bob down.

I came very close to touching the pole soaring nearly out of the top of his swimming trunks. Then we switched off. He rubbed my shoulders and started to kiss me all over, first on my neck, and then on my breasts when he exposed them to the sunlight. They were swelling with excitement.

I thought I was going to faint my heart was beating so fast. He picked me up and carried me down into his cabin, and before laying me on his bed he stripped off my swimsuit and stared at my crotch. My first boyfriend, Brian, had me shave there and I had kept it like that partly because it scratches when it grows back, but mostly because I love the smooth feeling, like a baby's skin.

He began to lick my mound. He spread my legs on his bed and began to lick my gaping cunt hole and my clit. He finger fucked me while reached over and pulled his organ out of his pants and began to suck his head. I love cock, its meaty taste, its musky smell the way it fills my mouth poking me, I open wide so I don't bite by accident and, wrapping my tongue to it I begin to suck.

It was lathered in that sweet salty pre-come that I just can't eat enough of but he was determined to fuck me. So he pinned me down on his bed and took me missionary style.
Not that it was boring, mind you.
He fucked me so hard that we moved all over the bed. 'Jesus, I haven't had sex in months'� he said. He seemed to have save up lots of enthusiasm because he kissed me all over and fondled my firm breasts and pounded away at me.

It was such a pleasant feeling with his hot and hard cock brushing past my inner thighs and into me, stretching me outwards and inwards as his thrusts became urgent. I felt like I was melting around him, my whole being striving to pleasure him as he filled me. I had wanted him to come in my mouth, but he seemed too engrossed in fucking me to listen to reason.

I was not thinking too hard either I thought well I'm probably not fertile when he began to grunt and groan and he said, I need to come. I had my hands around his ass, and the wine made me say, 'come in me, baby, come deep in me � His groans became louder, and the boat rocked as he began to blast his seed into me. He was sunk in me up to the hilt when the first jets of semen smacked the mouth of my uterus. I could feel both his organ totally filling me and the throbs that were rattling his body.

Another wave of passed through his balls, pressed flush against my ass cheeks, fired through his shaft and into my greedy womb. I pressed his ass even more, wishing that I could take him wholly inside me. More grunts let me know he wasn't finished. Instead his whole body stiffened as he emptied his heavy balls into my sopping wet pussy. After a minute or so he collapsed on top of me, half asleep but passionately aware of my needs.

My clit was very sensitive, but I began to rub it when he lay down by my side. In only a few seconds I began to come, as heavy contractions sent waves of pleasure shooting through my body like warm stars. I felt warm and sated. I had read in a girl's magazine that a woman's orgasm is meant to suck the sperm in to stay longer and impregnate her.

I wanted to keep his seed in me, to make the moment last, and thought about my busy little womb trying to gather up as much goo as she could, but I could feel it oozing out of me in big gobs.
I listened to the sounds of the boat floating in the water, to Bob's increasingly heavy breaths as he fell asleep and I lay there enjoying the moment, weeks away from the stunning realization that just one of those millions of tiny seeds had found his mark in me and filled me with life.

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