bewitching smile

I hate going to charity balls. You have to get dressed in a monkey suit, they’re always so crowded and boisterous that even if you don’t have claustrophobia you feel icky, you have to listen to boring speeches, the band is often either too loud or bad, and the drinks are way overpriced. I have no problem sending money to worthy causes I just don’t like the events that they think they have to sponsor to get donations.

My wife, on the other hand, loves to get dressed up, chat with dozens of people while drinking the overpriced booze, and dance, and isn’t bothered by the crowds. Because she’s a good sport in going to baseball and hockey games with me I feel obligated to return the favor and tag along to those heinous balls making my best efforts to complain as little as possible.

A charity ball last January was different. It was in a hotel so the guests had access to more than just the ballroom, and in one room a hockey game that I had wanted to watch was on T. V. I sneaked away from my wife and some friends and went into the room to watch so as to relieve my boredom and pain.

While I was watching a friend of mine, who also had escaped the main ball room when the speeches started, came up to me. “Hey Colin, what’s the score, and what period?” he blurted out without so much as a “How are you doing?”

“I’m glad to have the company of another escaped inmate,” I laughed, “Capitals up 2-1 at the start of the second period.”

We exchanged observations about the game for a few minutes when we were approached by a classy older woman and a cute younger one. “Hi, Bill,” the women said to my friend, “glad that you could make it.”

“Ann, have you met my friend Colin?” Bill inquired talking to the older woman.

“No, I don’t think so,” she said offering her hand, “I’m Ann Caldwell and this is my daughter Cecil,” she said shaking my hand and then turning to usher her daughter toward Bill and I. Cecil also came up, shook my hand with a firm yet feminine grip, and looked me in the eye, something not many young people do.

Since I used the terms “older,” “younger,” and “young,” I need to describe the characters.

I’m sixty though I’ve been told by many people that I look more like forty, primarily because my hair doesn’t have much gray (solely genetics, I have nothing to do with it) and because most of my 6’3″ frame is muscle, certainly with no visible fat (something that I do have something to do with because I work out every day).

Bill is my age, probably 5’9″, but also in good shape, though his hair is 90% gray.

Ann looked to be in her mid to late forties, medium height, and attractive in addition to being classy, with a beautiful shoulder and backless floral print ball gown.

Cecil looked to be, and I found out later that she was, nineteen with shoulder length dirty blond hair (the color, not the appearance; it was actually very attractive), blue eyes, and light complexion. Even in the high heels that I assumed that she wore she was fairly short, probably 5’4″. She also had a shoulder and backless ball gown, robin’s egg blue. While her face wasn’t classically beautiful it was friendly and cheery, she had a wonderful smile; and she had a real sparkle in her blue eyes, intensified by eye shadow matching the color of her dress.

I don’t know exactly how it worked out that way but while Ann and Bill were catching up on things that they had a common connection with Cecil came right up to me and standing just inches away initiated a conversation.

I found Cecil to be one of the most interesting people that I had talked to in a long time. At first I was primarily trying to watch the game while being polite enough to carry on a conversation, but soon realized that chatting with Cecil was better than the game, especially since the Capitals seemed to be tanking. Soon I lost complete interest in hockey and focused solely on Cecil.

I found out that Cecil was working as an intern for the charity that sponsored the ball as part of a course curriculum in her junior year of college, having graduated high school in three years, and would be continuing her internship for another five or six weeks. She had no interest in hockey and had never played competitive sports in school but loved to run and bicycle (or attend spinning classes when the weather wasn’t conducive to outdoor biking) to stay in shape. Her passion was helping other people, something she started doing on a regular basis at age ten and continued through high school and now college.

While Cecil stood next to me with a drink in her hand and was effervescent I never saw her drink from her glass. She constantly made eye contact and the more I looked at her the more enthralling she looked. After about a half hour I was enchanted. My spell was broken only when she said, “Oh, they’ve stopped skating,” motioning toward the T V.

Using the break between periods in the hockey game as an excuse I asked if she’d like to dance.

“Oh, actually I don’t dance much.”

“Why is that, Cecil?”

“I’m really not very good.”

“With your lithe young body you have to be better than me,” I chuckled.

“Well if you really want to,” she said, grabbing me by the hand and leading me to the ballroom, putting her drink on a waiter’s tray as we moved along.

The music was loud, the dance floor fairly crowded, and she really wasn’t a very good dancer, but I was thoroughly enjoying myself. After three or four dances she pulled my head down to her level and whispered (actually yelled in order to be heard over the din) I’m embarrassing myself. Can’t we just talk?”

I smiled and said “Sure,” but just then a slow song started. I stopped her and said “Just this slow song, I’ll carry the dance.”

“Okay, but let me take my heels off, they’re killing me,” she replied.

With that she ran over to a table about twenty feet off the dance floor, kicked her shoes off under it, and ran back. Just as I thought she was about 5’1″, a good fourteen inches shorter, and one hundred pounds lighter, than I was.

We tried slow dancing but the disparity in our heights made it comically difficult and we started laughing. After a few miscues she giggled “I thought you said you’d carry the dance.”

“OK,” I laughingly replied, “you asked for it.” With that I picked her up off the ground, squeezed her tight to me, and moved around the floor just like I was dancing with someone six feet tall.

Cecil never, by word or action, gave even the slightest hint that she was uncomfortable but instead giggled and occasionally squeezed my shoulder or bicep; she obviously enjoyed being gently manhandled. When the song ended and I put her down she said “Wow, you’re really strong.”

I replied “No, you’re really light.”

“If I could dance like that all the time I’d do it more often – did you see how effortlessly I glided over the dance floor,” she said with a mock serious tone as she held her arms like she was doing the waltz.

We went over to the table she had kicked her shoes under and chatted a few minutes more before her mother came to retrieve her. “Cecil, Dad wants to leave. Let’s go get our coats. It was nice meeting you Colin, even though we didn’t get to talk much,” Ann said, extending her hand.

“I was completely charmed by your daughter,” I responded, smiling as I shook Ann’s hand.

“I need to find and put my shoes on, Mom,” Cecil said with a sly grin, having heard my compliment. “I’ll meet you at the coat check in a minute.”

Cecil found her shoes and supported herself on my shoulder to put them on as I remained sitting and she stood. Leaning over so that we were almost nose-to-nose she said “I really enjoyed talking with you – even dancing.”

Given how close we were I was even more mesmerized by her eyes than before. Without thinking I responded “You have spectacularly beautiful blue eyes,” eliciting an enormous grin from Cecil. Realizing that it wasn’t something appropriate for me to say to someone forty years younger than I was I quickly followed it with “It’s been so enjoyable to talk to you that I’m going to make another contribution to the charity in your name.”

“If you do I’ll take you to lunch,” she smirked, then gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and quickly disappeared into the crowd.

As I sat stunned I said to myself Wow, it’s really hot in here. After a few seconds I realized that it wasn’t – I was just flushed. I felt something at my crotch and when I looked down my pole was so upright you would have thought that I had pitched a circus tent. I got up, embarrassed, got a drink, and just walked around chastising myself for getting worked up over a teenager just because she had been pleasant to me, and trying to hide and suppress my hard on.

On the way home my wife said “I hope that it wasn’t too boring for you Dear.”

“Uh, no,” I said, “One of the better charity balls. So who did you talk to and about what?”

As my wife thoroughly answered my question my mind was on other things. What in the hell made that girl so incredibly sexy? kept running through my mind.


I couldn’t get Cecil out of my mind the rest of the weekend, or even on Monday. I debated whether I really should give a donation in her name and finally decided that if I had made that promise to someone that I wasn’t infatuated with I would keep my word, so why not with her?

Tuesday I sent a personal letter to Cecil at the charity along with an awkwardly large check; I immediately regretted giving four times as much as the tickets to the charity ball cost given how that might be interpreted by Cecil, but by then I had already put the letter and check in the mail.

Thursday afternoon my secretary rang me, “A Ms. Cecil Caldwell is on the phone; do you want to talk to her?”

“Yes, put her through.” I gushed, hoping after I did so that my secretary did not pick up on my excitement. Before picking up the phone I resolved that I would keep my enthusiasm under control when I talked to Cecil.

“Hi Cecil, this is Colin.”

“You really are bad, aren’t you Colin,” Cecil laughed, “Now I have to spend some of my meager college-student savings on buying you lunch.”

“Hey, I don’t want to break you, but would like to lunch with you; maybe we can brown-bag it,” I laughed back.

“How about if I treat you to Subway instead?”

“I love Subway. When and where?”

“How about tomorrow at 11:30 at the one on 18th street, near my office.”

I was flushed when I got off the phone. I felt more like a twenty year old than a sixty year old. Get your act together before tomorrow, I chastized myself, she has no sexual interest in you; get real!

The lunch at Subway with Cecil was – in one word – invigorating. Although not all dolled up as she was at the ball Cecil was just as enchanting. Her twinkling eyes, her sparkling personality, and her naturally flirtatious manner, bewitched me. We talked for at least an hour after we finished our subs. When she looked at her watch and saw that she was late getting back I offered to reimburse her for the meal, which she bodied me out of the way to pay for when we picked up the subs. Her response thrilled me.

“You can pay next time.”

There’s going to be a “next time,” I mouthed to myself. I didn’t miss the opportunity.

“How about Monday at noon at Old Ebbitt Grill?”

“Sounds great – will you walk me to my office building, assuming that you can keep up,” Cecil laughed.

“If I carry you we’ll get there faster,” I snickered as I mock reached to grab her while she scurried away giggling.

I left her at the entrance to her office building, thanked her, and got a big hug, after which she smiled up at me with her dazzling blue eyes and said “See you Monday.”

It was a long weekend made bearable only because I was so jazzed that I fucked my wife three times in two days, unprecedented in the last twenty years; Monday couldn’t come fast enough.

Cecil and I had lunch together about every two or three days for the next month. I really enjoyed her company and shockingly she seemed to enjoy mine more and more. We even got “touchy” with each other, sometimes even holding hands (a sixty year old acting like a high school kid?).

There were only about two weeks left before Cecil went back to college when as we parted after a lunch on a Thursday and were about to make plans for the future Cecil asked “Colin, do you think that we could maybe meet Saturday and maybe go on an adventure?”

This was the first time that she indicated any desire to meet on a weekend, and I had no idea what “an adventure” was, but I was so anxious to move our relationship along without looking like a total fool and asshole if I misinterpreted anything that I was quick to answer. “Sure, but what ‘adventure?’”

“Leave that to me. Meet me at my dorm on Mass. Avenue at 10 a.m. on Saturday; just call up to my room on the lobby phone when you get there.”

“OK,” I replied with a somewhat skeptical tone, followed by our customary hug goodbye, which seemed to get longer after each meeting and was now so long that my hard-on was starting to grow enough that it would be noticeable to her.

When I picked Cecil up on Saturday she looked fantastic. She wore a striking outfit and had eye shadow on similar to that at the ball. It was warm for an early March day so she didn’t wear a coat. She greeted me with her patented brilliant smile and a hug and then took my hand as we walked out of her dorm lobby.

I just followed where she took me as we chatted about nothing in particular for a few blocks. Then she started talking about how much she enjoyed lunches at the various places we had gone, and displayed an excellent memory for the details of each establishment we had patronized.

After we had walked about a mile or so she stopped in front of the Park Hyatt Hotel. Her demeanor changed from bright and cheery to nervous. As she continuously glanced at me and then away she said, “I’ve always wanted to get lunch from room service and eat it in bed. The Hyatt has vacant rooms, and….”

Her words trailed off. After the initial shock I knew that I needed to take charge. She was embarrassed, I was burning with desire, and I – at least theoretically – was the more mature person.

“Well why don’t we get a room now so that we will have enough time to look over the menu before ordering,” I said hoping that I was smiling and not lasciviously drooling.

That perked her up and she actually looked me in the eye for a few seconds and said “That would be wonderful.”

As we rode up on the elevator I tried to keep the conversation light, mostly about how nice the surroundings were, but as soon as we entered our room I lifted her off the ground and gave her as passionate a kiss as I could muster, one that was returned in kind by Cecil. I set her down and told her “You’re the most alluring woman that I have ever seen,” an absolutely true statement!

I started slowly and gently removing her top while just as deliberately she unbuttoned my shirt. After I took her top off I waited for her to remove my shirt before reaching around her to unfasten her bra. As I was doing that she blushed and said “I’m not very experienced sexually.”

“Not to worry, I’ll take the lead,” I replied smiling.

Cecil got a little more energetic after her bra was removed and we more quickly disposed of our lower body garments. When we were completely naked I lifted her up and placed her on the pillow top mattress and then paused to bask in her radiance. Then a relevant question popped into my head.

“Do you have birth control?” I quietly inquired.

“I went on the pill last week in anticipation of this,” she blushed as I smiled.

Naked Cecil’s body seemed even lither than it did when clothed. Her breasts were small but supple, the nipples taking up probably one quarter to one third of the total area of her boobs. Her hips were shapely and her thighs thin but with clear muscle definition. Her vaginal lips were short but puffy and her clitoris pronounced, surrounded by a very sparse bush of hair lighter in color than the dirty blond color of the hair on her head.

Not exaggerating in the least I blurted out “That is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life,” as I stared at and lightly brushed her pussy. The smile on her face turned into a slightly apprehensive look as she stared at my rock hard cock; perhaps she was wondering if it would hurt when inserted into her tiny slit. While I’m only slightly bigger than average, she is much smaller. Wanting to set her at ease I stroked the side of her face and murmured “I’ll be the most tender lover in the world.”

I got up on the bed, pulled her legs apart and in slow sequence touched her clitoris with my tongue, gently pinched one pussy lip with one hand and then kneaded the other pussy lip with my other hand. Her moans grew progressively louder until I started more forcefully tonguing her clit. She gripped the hair on my head and shuddered when I sucked her clitoris into my mouth, obviously her first orgasm of the day, though a relatively minor one.

I was the least hurried giving oral sex that I ever had been in my life. Bright sunlight streamed through the large window causing her vaginal fluids to glisten and her natural radiance to appear even brighter. Her female parts were simply delectable and her passive yet appreciative enjoyment of my fondling was more thrilling to me than a wild fuck.

As I used all of my digits, tongue and lips to leisurely work over every part of her body including her nipples, thighs, rosebud, G-spot and clitoris, she had orgasms with almost Gatling gun frequency. Since I hadn’t had sex with anyone except my wife for the last thirty seven years I couldn’t be sure but I never ever remember a partner with close to her frequency of orgasms, nor had I ever read about one. While each individual orgasm was not too intense the combination was obviously having an outrageous effect on her body, driving her almost delirious.

Eventually, in a moment of clarity between her rapid fire climaxes, Cecil sat up, grabbed my head with her hands, and pulled my lips towards her. She gave me a passionate kiss. I interpreted this as a signal to start fucking.

I moved my body between Cecil’s spread apart thighs, supported myself above her body with one hand so as not to crush her, and gently pinched a nipple with the other. I viewed my steel shaft cock to make sure that it was aligned with her slit and then ever so slowly and deliberately moved my hips so as to penetrate her.

Cecil groaned and held onto my biceps as I moved further and further into her chasm. She was so snug that had she not also been fully lubricated there is no way that I could have buried myself without causing her pain, but by the time that I was balls deep it was clear that she had experienced only pleasure.

I gently rocked back and forth, then pumped in and out, then rotated clockwise then counterclockwise, every action slow and deliberate. Cecil started becoming more and more animated, moving her hands from my biceps to hugging my neck, and slightly pulsating her pelvis. Although our body geometries didn’t allow her to wrap her legs around my torso she clamped her thighs to the sides of my body causing her already tight pussy to become almost impossibly tight.

When she pulled my head to hers and started kissing me I started moving more quickly in her vagina. I gave two fast strokes then eight slow ones, followed by three fast and seven slow, ultimately culminating in continuous hard reciprocations. She had to stop kissing me and cried out during one long continuous orgasm as I continued pumping until I started groaning and unleashed a tsunami of cum into her pussy.

I continued pumping throughout my washing of her vaginal walls as she started thrashing her entire pelvic area about. Suddenly she went limp and I stopped stroking. Having never fucked anyone comatose before at first I thought that I had hurt her, but when after a twenty second or so delay she opened her eyes and smiled broadly at me I knew that she had simply had had her circuits overloaded.

September 2018
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