As I pulled out of my driveway I was smiling to myself. My husband, Michael, was at home with our two kids, the oldest being twenty-four months, and he had just told me to have a good time. It was a Saturday morning and I was on my way to the hairdresser. He closed his shop at noon and I had an 11:30 appointment. I was getting a haircut. My hairdresser, Joe, was getting a blow job.

I was thinking about what had led up to this point. How Michael liked to watch other men look at me. He liked to see their reactions. Michael also loves for me to tell him stories about my past sexual exploits, of which I’ve had a few. Actually, some of them have been with Michael but for the most part they have been from before I met him or they were, like today, little adventures he sends me on and when I come home I tell him all about them.

Today’s encounter with Joe was the result of two years of by-play between the two of us. There was light but constant sexual banter between us until I came in for my first hair appointment after I was pregnant. Joe wanted to see me naked. Apparently he had never seen a pregnant woman up close and personal and he let me know he would appreciate the opportunity. I told him I would speak with Michael and let him know. I came in twice after that and, although Joe kept asking, I had never said anything to my husband.

The baby came and I never got naked for Joe. He was disappointed and he let me know it. It was all I could do to keep from laughing when he would show me the hurt puppy face and say, “All I wanted to do was see you naked.”

My baby had been born in February and I had been in to see Joe a few times over the intervening months. Every time I saw him Joe would give me a big smile and then I would get my body report. He would tell me how great I was looking as I was losing my pregnancy weight. He was especially impressed by my full breasts which seemed even larger as I got back into my regular clothes. Once I heard him murmur, “God bless the titty fairy.” You have to just shake your head and smile with Joe. Truth be told, his comments were making me feel pretty good about myself and the way I was snapping back from having the baby.

When I came in for a cut in September I had just found out I was once again pregnant. Joe quickly reminded me he wanted to see me naked. “Yes Joe, I know. You want to see me naked. Okay. Let me ask Michael.”

I was scheduled again for the middle of October and when I came in Joe took one look at me and could barely contain himself. “Jesus, Kathy,” he said, “Your tits are huge!”

“Yeah,” I replied, “They’re swollen, and they’re hard as rock. They hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.”

“Hard as a rock? Why are they hard as a rock?”

“Joe, they’re full of milk and I can’t breast feed because I’m pregnant again.”

“Can I see them?”

“No, I never said anything to my husband.”

“You gotta let me feel’em.”

“No Joe. You can’t feel them. There are people all around. Maybe some day — be patient.”

I laughed as I remembered Joe begging to feel my tits. My nipples got hard just thinking about it. “Well, it won’t be long until he gets to see them now,” I thought to myself. I briefly had self-doubts, “They’re not as full as they were and my nipples have been chewed on pretty good for the past seven months. I hope he likes them.”

I relaxed remembering Michael checking me out the night before and telling me I looked great and that I had great tits and nipples. I was a bit nervous about what was going to happen; Michael was very excited. He was orchestrating the encounter with me verbally as we fucked the night before. Like I said, he loves this stuff.

I pulled into town and now all I had to do was drive through to the other side, to the street where the shop was located. I started thinking about Joe. He was a bit younger than me and considered himself a player. He was constantly telling me about the women he was dating and I don’t believe the whole time I’ve known him he has ever brought up the same one twice. He’s maybe six feet tall, probably 180 pounds with dark hair and eyes. He claimed to have a big cock. “I’m thinking we’re going to find out about that big boy today Joe.”

He was good looking but not in a cute way. He was ruggedly handsome and was a hockey player. He looked strong, I could tell his hands and forearms were strong from watching him cut my hair. He had a flat stomach, I was wondering if he had abs, and he had a great ass. I was hoping he had good abs. It’s been awhile since I’ve been with good abs.

I remembered setting the appointment up the previous month to be his last one for that Saturday morning. He had anywhere from six to eight other staff that would be there and they usually hung around until close, but he said he could get rid of them.

I smiled remembering the day before and his call to my work. He just wanted to make sure we were still go and was asking what I was planning on wearing. I told him I would be there and my outfit would be a surprise. He sounded like a little boy all excited about Christmas. “Joe, I need to get back to work. I will be in tomorrow and we’ll play. My husband said to enjoy myself. Am I going to enjoy myself, Joe?”

He didn’t know what to say. “Sure Kathy. We’re going to have a great time. I have everything set up.”

“Tomorrow, Lou. Bye.”

As I pulled into the parking lot I thought to myself, “Well, it’s tomorrow and I’m still not sure what I want to do.” Michael has said he definitely wanted me to blow him because he wanted the story and he had envisioned that scenario or as he put it, “I want you to suck his dick until he explodes and then come home and give me a big cum kiss.” Then he added, “If you want to fuck him go ahead, it’s your call, but I’d really rather be there to watch that.”

Therein was my dilemma. I wanted to fuck Joe. I wanted to fuck his young, tight body; I did not want to be another one of his conquests, a discard on the pile of Joe’s dating history. I wanted this to be a unique experience for him.

As I walked into the shop I wasn’t sure of the outcome, but I was ready. I was a little nervous; in sports I suppose what I was feeling is called ‘butterflies.’ I don’t think your crotch is as tingly in sports as mine was walking into that shop however. I was as ready as I could be; I had thrown a fresh shave on the pussy and I was as smooth as the skin on a newborn’s ass.

I signed in with Joan at the counter and took a seat. I tried looking at a People magazine but I was too excited and was still thinking through how I wanted this encounter to go. There were a couple of customers in the shop along with five staff. Joe was at his station finishing up with his customer. He has his chair in the back of the shop so he can see everything from the massage/waxing room, through the chairs and the nail station to the front counter. He saw me and shot a smile my way and I gave him a bit of a wave.

He finished up, his customer left and I got ready to go back. However, no Joe. He had gone off into the back of the shop, I suppose to his office, and I could no longer see him. I was the only one waiting to get my hair done, everyone else had been taken. They were all washed and in chairs and here I sat.

I saw him come out and he walked up to get me. I said, “Joseph, what to hell are you doing?”

He replied, “Look around. Everyone will be finished and gone while I’m still cutting your hair.”

I looked around. He was right. You gotta love a man with a plan.

He washed my hair and then started cutting while we made small talk. There was a certain sexual tension in the air and I was wondering if anyone could sense it. The shop was slowly emptying out, every time one of the staff would leave, she would stop by Joe’s chair and say goodbye. He called out to Joan and told her she could get on her way. He would close out and there was no reason for her to hang around waiting for him to finish with me.

Finally, the last one, Tammy called over that she was leaving. Tammy and I had been friends for years, she actually was the person who did my nails and I had followed her to Joe’s shop when she had changed locations. She looked at me a bit quizzically and asked, “Kathy, are you going to be all right here with our boy Joseph?”

I smiled at her and laughed, “Yeah, Tams, I’ve got this young boy under control!”

She said goodbye, Joe started drying my hair and we were alone. It was decision-making time.

Joe shut off the dryer. My hair wasn’t completely finished but he said, “I’ll finish you up when we’re done, that way you’ll look good when you get home.”

I said, “Okay,” and got out of the chair.

As he came up behind me he said, “You look great. I’ve been waiting a long time for this!” He turned me around and gave a deep kiss. He tasted wonderful, a slight minty taste, as he pushed his crotch against my leg. He was wearing a pair of drawstring pants and from the way I could feel his dick against my leg I knew right away he was swinging free, easy and going commando. He took my hand and led me into the massage room, he turned and backed up against the massage table holding me at arm’s length,

He slowly undid the buttons of my shirt, pulling the tails out of my pants and letting it fall open. I had worn one of my sexy see-through bras and my nipples were popping. He reached behind me and undid the clasp and then cupped my breasts with the bra, pushing them together and buried his face in my cleavage and then he kissed and licked his way up to my neck and to my lips. His hands slipped beneath the bra and he began alternately massaging my breasts and then twisting my nipples.

I broke away from the kiss, stepped back and grabbed the bottom of his sweater on each side and slowly slid my hands up the sides of his body bring the sweater with me. His body was so tight. I took a look down to see a rippled stomach and an erection that was pushing so firmly against his sweats that they were being slightly pulled from his lower abdomen. I smiled and thought to myself, “This is going to be fun.”

With his sweater off, Joe smiled at me, reached out and removed my shirt and bra. He took my hands and pulled my arms out from my sides and slowly lifted them over my head. He was mesmerized by the way my boobs were slowly lifting and I was right with him watching his pecs. Our arms slowly went up and down together as if they were in a dance. My boobs and his pecs were acting as if they were the maestro conducting the movements of our arms. He moved into me and pressed his body into mine. It felt so good. His body was so tight and his dick was so hard. He left my hands in the air and slowly slid his hands down my arms and my sides to my breasts. He cupped each one and slowly began sucking on my nipples. First one, then the other and then back again. Each time he drew my nipple into his mouth he would circle it with his tongue and then he would suck on it, hard.

After having had my nipples chewed on by my last kid this felt wonderful. My nipples were as erect as they had been in a long time and, as long as he didn’t bite the nipple off, I was good.

He took a break from working my nipples and kissed his way down over my ribs and licked my navel and lower abdomen as he squeezed my ass. Light kisses and a swirling tongue. It felt great. My pussy was soaking wet with anticipation but my mind was still controlling the situation and I had yet to decide what I really wanted to do.

Joe was strong. He wasn’t just squeezing my ass, he was massaging my ass, pulling my cheeks apart and forcing the material to rub against my now sopping wet pussy. I moaned every time the material pulled tight against my clit. I think I may have been able to cum had he kept it up. It seemed as if everything was aligning in that direction.

As he went to undo my belt I said, “No,” and pulled him up. Instantly I knew how I wanted this to go. Joe was a few years younger than me, a fact about which he had often kidded me and, on more than one occasion, had suggested that maybe I should teach him something. Naturally, I had agreed that I could; however, I wasn’t in the business of instructing young lads without reaping the benefits.

Joe gave me a slightly puzzled look as I pushed him back against the massage table. He said, “You’re not changing your mind on me are you?”

I smiled at him and said, “Let me teach you something.”

“What are you going to teach me?” his voice was a bit husky now and his antennae went up – just like his erection.

I kissed him, deeply. I then started sliding down his body, dragging my tongue down the side of his neck, making little circles much as he had. I sucked and nibbled on his nipples as I felt and squeezed his chest and upper arms. I couldn’t believe how tight his body was. I let my hands trail down over his abdomen and I grabbed his erection through his pants with both hands. He was fully erect and he moaned as I took hold. I let go of his dick and undid the drawstring on his pants.

I now had my hands on his hips and I was holding his pants up. I left his nipples and slowly began the trek south. I stopped at his navel and played there for a moment with my tongue and then I continued down until I reached the top of his pants. I slowly began sliding them down, licking him as each new area of skin was exposed.

I said, “I’m going,” as pubic hairs began to appear, “teach you,” — I lightly licked him from just inside his hair line to his navel, up and down and back and forth – his dick was fully erect and as I was licking him it was coming up under my chin and hitting me in the neck through his sweats – “how to,” – I continued to slide my hands down bring the pants with me, now about half of his dick was exposed and because of the way I was holding his pants it was pinned down. I couldn’t see the top of his dick, it was still pinned by the pants but his ass was exposed so as I kneaded his ass I lightly licked the top of his shaft from where it was covered by the pants into his hair. His dick tasted slightly salty and had that male-sex smell I love so much. Up and down I licked as I kneaded his ass. His ass was so tight I was getting almost as big of thrill out of squeezing that as I was licking what I could see of his dick.

Joe was moaning and I whisked his pants the rest of the way off and his hard-on popped up, hitting me in the face and bouncing a few times. He tried to reach for my head to pull me onto him but I said. “No. I’m going to teach you how to be patient and I’m going to teach you how to let someone else do what they want and get what they want from you instead of it always being about what you want. So just lay back.”

He was semi-sitting on the very edge of the table with his feet on the floor and he laid back with me on my knees between his legs. I would never tell Joe this but the view was tremendous. His dick was sticking straight up in the air, with his sac snuggled in beneath and right above his ass – everything was in the right place and the view was terrific. I laughed to myself as I thought, “Joe thinks this is for him, he has no idea I’m doing this for Michael.”

I rubbed his calves and started licking him on the inside of his right knee. Making little circles with my tongue I slowly worked my way toward his crotch. I was rubbing his thighs and they were so tight. All of that skating he was doing playing hockey was really paying off for me now. As I got to the inside of his groin I was able to feel his erection throbbing against the right side of my face. I rolled my chin and neck over the top of his dick to the other side and started down his left leg, this time feeling him on left side of my face. As I had rubbed my chin and neck over his dick he had slightly moaned.

I guess now would be a good time to tell you about Joe’s dick. He had often bragged to me about how he was the proud possessor of a very large cock. Well, after several minutes of observation from various angles I can tell you that Joe had a nice dick, but he fell short of the massive cock category. He was of normal length, probably around six or six and a half inches and wasn’t overly thick. What he had was a nicely formed head, whoever had done his circumcision had done a nice job. He also had a nice, straight shaft. His balls and sac were tight, but I had yet to explore those. His dick kept flexing, jerking actually, and there was a drop of pre-cum that I slowly licked off with just the tip of my tongue.

I asked him, “You’re not going to cum before I even get to your fine dick there are you Joe?”

“No, I’m good, but damn that feels so good.”

“I know,” I purred back at him.

I reached up and grabbed his dick with my fist, from maybe the mid-point to the base, and as I grabbed his dick an electric feeling shot through me, something totally unexpected. His dick was so hard. “Oh, my god,” I thought to myself, “It’s been so long since I’ve had a dick this hard, this tight. I took my other hand and I twisted the skin. Lou moaned but I really couldn’t get any twist on his dick. As the saying goes, I could have hammered nails with this dick.

I slowly slipped his dick into my mouth, just the head, and ran my tongue around the edge of the head of his dick and then, using my tongue, I put pressure on his opening. He began to squirm a bit and then even more as I twirled my tongue pushing into the opening. As I was doing this I took my left hand and rubbed the inside of his thigh and with my right hand I felt his sac and rolled his balls in my fingers.

“Stroke me!”

“Joe, do want a blowjob or jerked off? You just lay back and enjoy. I’m doing what I want and I want to use my mouth.”

I took his full shaft into my mouth and stayed like that for a few seconds. I could feel him in the back of my throat, but I was okay, I had sucked larger. I then sucked as hard as I could and slowly started backing off. Sucking and squeezing him with my lips and just ever so lightly letting him feel my teeth. I was pulling down as I slowly slid off the end and his dick jumped up as I released it from my mouth. I gently tried to force my tongue into his opening and he moaned and squirmed.

I felt he was getting too close too quickly; I wanted to enjoy this too. I lifted his dick up and held it against his abdomen; I then licked the length of his shaft occasionally flicking my tongue at his balls. He continued to moan and squirm but I knew he had a better chance of holding out doing this than if I stroked and sucked him with my mouth. I needed him to last until I was finished enjoying his dick.

I turned my head and started sucking his shaft as if I was playing a harmonica. I’d work down into his balls, then back up and over the top and down into his abdomen. I did this a few times and, although it feels great, it gave him a few moments to gather himself and try to prolong the whole experience.

To hold him off a bit longer I turned around and sat on the floor and raised up pulling his sac into my mouth. I was able to get up far enough to get some pressure behind his balls with my nose. I simply pushed as hard as I could with my face, rolling his balls with my tongue. I was watching his ass cheeks and they were clenched about as tight as you can clench ass cheeks. I think subconsciously Joe was trying to tell me his anus was an exit only. I thought to myself, “We’re going to have to do a little exploring there in a bit.” Joe was moaning pretty good as I swung back around and got back to my knees.

There was a brief respite as I shifted and I could see him relax just a bit, then I plunged my head back down onto his shaft, cupped and rolled his balls with my left hand while my right hand went to the base of his balls and I pressed into that special area on a guy between his sac and his anus with my finger. Joe’s whole body went stiff; I could tell he wasn’t going to last much longer and I was pretty sure I could control when he would cum.

I’ve always hated going to the barbers. Maybe it dates back to some traumatic event in my childhood, like being dragged there screaming by my father, but truthfully, I just don’t know. I just know that all through my school years I hated going to the barber.

I guess by the time I was in college I was old enough to get over that minor phobia, but I got through by snipping at my own hair, which was cheaper anyway, and having my sister cut my hair on holidays. When I moved town to start my first job, I happened on an ad in a grocery store for a hairdresser who worked out of her home. I liked that idea, called up for an appointment, and that was how I met Lynette.

So, for nearly four years no I’ve been visiting Lynette once every ten weeks or so, something that has never been a chore and it’s a whole lot better than going to the barber.

The first time I arrived at her door her husband answered. He was a short, dorky man who seemed awkward and not very personable. Behind his wire-rimmed glasses his ferret-like eyes moved a lot and didn’t meet mine, but he let me in to meet Lynette in their kitchen, where she worked on her customers. I liked the fact that there was no mirror in the kitchen and I didn’t have to sit for twenty minutes and look at myself.

Lynette was almost a polar opposite of her husband, friendly, sincere, warm and very pretty. Lynette’s features were stunning to my eye. She had beautiful, smooth skin, a wide mouth that smiled readily and a perfect small nose that joined with her gorgeous hazel eyes to form most of the expressions that I got to know over the years. Her hair was just longer than shoulder-length, a wonderful shiny light brown and framed her face with fringe that always tried to part in the middle. If there was a criticism to hurl at Lynette, it was that her clothes were always drab — always good quality clothes, and she was impeccably dressed, but the colors she chose were always dark and seemed to hide away the bodily curves that she definitely had.

Lynette was at least fifteen years older than me but she was always someone I looked forward to spending some time with every few weeks. It was only a few minutes in reality, but it was always a good quality few minutes. I was always perplexed by why such a stunning woman would be with a dorky, almost strange guy, but as I grew in the world I realized that I’d seen stranger couples.

Sitting in Lynette’s kitchen chair and having her walk around me and chop my hair was always a pleasure. We talked about any kind of news of the day, nothing too personal, and it was all so easy and comfortable. Her husband never came near us when I was in the kitchen and the most I ever saw of him was when he opened the door or when he called goodbye on my exit. That part of the visits never bothered me.

That particular evening I parked on the street in front of Lynette’s house as usual but as I approached the door I noticed that her husband’s pick-up truck was missing from the driveway. In four years of coming to see her, this was the first time the truck wasn’t there.

The second unusual occurrence of the evening came when Lynette herself answered the door. “Hi Mike.” She greeted me with a familiar smile. “Come on in.”

As usual she led me straight through to the kitchen but even in those first few seconds I sensed a different air in the house, a different mood in Lynette. I sat down in the waiting kitchen chair and she threw a hairdresser’s cape over me. The kitchen and what I could see of the rest of the house looked tidy and very much the same as I’d come to know, but there was a new aura and as we started to small talk while Lynette dampened down my hair, I was pretty sure everything I sensed was coming directly from her.

“How’s work?” She asked. “Been promoted again lately?”

I laughed, trying not to move my head as she started to clip. “Not this month. Hopefully in a year or two.” I’d been promoted to a Team Lead a couple of months earlier and shared the good news with her on my last visit.

I wanted to ask if there was anything wrong, but somehow didn’t know quite how to approach the subject. I was customer and a fleeting friend and really didn’t feel close enough to her to make such a personal enquiry. Lynette continued with her work, maybe a little quieter than normal, but not much. For the first time in all of my visits I did not notice how wonderful Lynette smelled, did not notice every time her thighs leaned against my arms or the curve of her breast brushed me as she moved around the chair and did her work.

When Lynette was finishing up I finally managed to pluck up the courage to ask her what was causing the tension in her that I sensed. “Is everything okay Lynette? You seem a little… distracted.”

She came around in front of me and pulled the cape with her. She looked a little sad and seemed to search for words before she spoke. “Brian and I… broke up.” She seemed relieved to get the words out. “Well, he left me. I guess that’s what happened.”

“What, today?”

Lynette handed me a mirror so I could check her work. I didn’t take the slightest look.

“No, no, it was a couple of weeks ago. I’ve just not been able to talk about it much.” She took the mirror back, either convinced I wasn’t going to use it, or paying no attention to my movements. “It’s been tough, I haven’t been out for a week, but I’ll get over it. I’m sorry, you don’t need to know all of this.”

“It’s okay.” I tried my best to be a sympathetic adult, a mode I was still developing back then. “I’m just sorry to hear about it. You always seemed so… comfortable together.”

Lynette smiled a little at the thought. “Yes, comfortable. I guess I thought the same. Apparently not though, not for him at least.”

“It’s just a little unsettling.” She started to tidy her combs, scissors and neck towels as she spoke. I didn’t move from the chair. “I think it’s not so much a surprise, when I think about it. It’s just hard to deal with, hard to talk about, and I don’t think I’m very good at talking with my friends about it yet. You shouldn’t have to worry about that though. Your hair looks nice.” She obviously tried to shake off the funk.

I knew, as I pulled some cash from my wallet, that I should probably just say “sorry” again and get out of there, but I really did want to help Lynette if I could. I didn’t have enough experience of dealing with crappy situations like this, and didn’t really know what to say. Fortunately I managed to find something reasonable to offer when I asked, “You know, I understand it’s tough, but if you’d like to talk about it… I’m not family or friends. If you’d like to go get a coffee… we could talk a bit. And it would get you out for a while.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me.” was her immediate reply. “I’ll be fine. You don’t want to waste your evening listening to my sob story.”

“No, it’s okay.” I probably sounded earnest now, mostly because I actually felt like I was being true and did want to help her. “If you want to, we can talk. It will probably do you good; a change of scenery.”

I could see her weighing the situation carefully as she used a brush to tidy up my hair on the tiled floor. Should she sit at home and cry all night, or go get a coffee and have a chat with a virtual stranger whose hair she knew a whole lot better than the rest of him? Well, that’s what I thought she was thinking.

“Are you sure?” She looked up, broom still in hand and looking vulnerable and forlorn.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Lynette’s face brightened a little, she put the broom against the kitchen table and started to walk out of the kitchen quickly. Behind her she called out, “Just give me a minute to get ready to go out.”

I drove us to a Starbucks near a local mall. Lynette had kept her black skirt on but changed into a white blouse and I thought it was the first time I’d seen her wear anything that wasn’t black, grey, brown or dark green. She looked good, but I could see that she was nervous, probably not about being with me, but how she could open up about her husband leaving. I wasn’t having a great time wondering how I could get her to open up, or if I wanted to deal with the conversation, and emotions, that might ensue.

The coffee shop was almost empty when we got there and while I got our drinks Lynette settled into a big easy chair with a small table next to it, leaving the adjacent chair for me. I watched from the counter as she fussed with a cushion and made herself comfortable, and wondered what the hell I was doing.

By the time I’d arrived with our coffee Lynette looked tense and unsure. She thanked me for the coffee and confirmed my suspicion when she said, “I’m not sure I can just sit here and discuss my marriage. I’m not sure why I came out.” She didn’t seem stressed, but definitely a little unsure.

“Don’t worry.” I reassured, growing in confidence in my new role as adult confidant. “We can just talk, relax. It’ll do you good for a while.”

Lynette nodded and sipped at her drink. She smiled over to me and said softly, “You’re very kind. Thank you.”

Prompted by a poster in the window, I started us off talking about the local high school football team who were having a great season. Lynette asked what sports I’d played and confessed that her sports experience was minimal but that she’d like to play tennis and maybe even golf. We went on to talk about local restaurants and at some point during that half-hour I saw the relaxed and warm Lynette come back into her body.

Inevitably, as it seemed at that age, our conversation turned to the subject of girlfriends. I laughed through the usual evasive answers that I gave and Lynette seemed to enjoy playfully probing at me and the slight discomfort I expressed on the subject. I’d had a few girlfriends at that stage in life, one or two had even been serious, but I was single at the time. When Lynette asked what I liked in a girl and I stumbled through a few drab answers I noticed that she’d drifted off and was staring at her coffee cup.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“No, no,” Lynette shook herself back to the moment. “I was just thinking… don’t worry.”

“No, it’s okay,” I insisted, “You can tell me.”

Lynette considered the situation for a few seconds before making a decision. “It’s just, hearing what you want in a girl, fun, friendly, smart… all he wanted was a porn star.”

I was startled by her statement but tried not to let it show. After a few seconds Lynette continued, “He watched a lot of porn, and wanted me to be like the girls he watched.”

“Did that bother you?”

“Not the porn itself,” she admitted, “that was… well, all men do, don’t they? What got to me was that he wanted me to be like the women he watched. And that wasn’t me. That was why he left in the end. I stopped doing what he wanted me to.”

I couldn’t resist the obvious question, “What kinds of things?”

Lynette seemed to catch herself, realizing that we were edging into the intimate details of her relationship. She considered this for a moment and then said, “You know, the usual things, like having me say… nasty things while he… and, he always wanted to… ejaculate on my face.” She averted her eyes from mine as she struggled with the words. It was obvious that she wanted to get them out, but she was still not sure what she was doing telling them to me in a coffee shop.

“I’m sorry.” It seemed like all I could say, especially as I was slightly compromised as having had facial fantasies of my own, even though I’d never done it and could plainly see it wasn’t the most romantic act that sexual partners could perform.

Lynette shook her head, not at my sympathy, but her situation. “It’s okay. You know, I’m not… well, those things are okay once in a while, but not all the time. Is this an uncomfortable conversation for you?” She looked hard into my face now. “I’m sorry, we should stop.”

“It’s fine.” I instinctively reached across the table and placed my hand over hers. “I’m just glad you can get some of this out. I’m happy to talk about anything.”

Lynette smiled. She pulled her hand away to push her hair to the side but it came back to rest on mine. “You’re really are very kind. It’s been hard not being able to explain why he left. Maybe this will make it easier to explain to other people.” She gave a big sigh and sat back a bit in the chair. “He was such a pain when it came to things like that.”

She went on to explain to me that in most other ways he had been a good husband, She wasn’t sure about their decision, years ago, not to have a family, but other than his sexual preferences, he was a good man. She didn’t give many details, but explained how he would watch porn, often while she was with customers and later demand that they basically act out the things he’d watched. I got the impression that occasionally this was painful for her and almost always unsatisfying. Hell, even I knew that sometimes women needed to make love the way they wanted! And there lay the bottom line in Lynette’s marriage: he wanted sex, and she needed to make love occasionally.

There was nothing erotic about our conversation. I was too busy listening and working out how to respond to the things Lynette said, and she was busy exorcising thoughts and events that had haunted her for too long. It seemed somewhat surreal to be sitting with the lovely Lynette, listening to her relate the failings of her sex life, but it also made me feel closer to her than I’d ever imagined.

“I mean, not all men are like that, are they?”

I tried to be honest. “All men have fantasies, but I’m sure most men as a bit more sympathetic to their partners’ wants and needs.”

“That’s what I thought.” Lynette seemed to reach the summit of our conversation, verbally confirming at least some of her self-doubt had been vanquished. “Men!”

I smiled softly at her small transformation.

“Present company accepted.” she laughed.

“You know,” Lynette paused to down the last of her, now stone cold, coffee, “he even wanted me to find a woman so he could have a threesome.” She shook her head. “He asked that all the time. Is that something you would ever ask a girl?”

I’m pretty sure I flushed a little with the directness of the question, and maybe knowing that it was another thing I’d fantasized about. However, I answered honestly. “I have a hard enough time worrying about pleasing one woman, never mind how I’d satisfy two.”

Lynette watched my face intently as I answered, and then laughed out loud.

I offered her another coffee but she elected to go home. I thought that would be the end of an interesting evening but when I pulled up to Lynette’s house she started to get out and nonchalantly commanded, “Come on in and have a glass of wine with me. It’s the least I can do. You’ve wasted all of this time on my sob story.”

I was about to say I didn’t consider it wasted time, but she was gone, so I switched off the engine and followed her into the house.

“Sit down.” She called from the kitchen. “White okay for you?”

I sat on the sofa and answered, “White’s fine. Just a small one, I’m driving.”

Lynette came in and handed me a moderately large glass of wine. She sat at the other side of the sofa and offered me her glass to clink. “Cheers.”

I think I was the uncomfortable one now, thoughts of porn scenes that may have taken place in this very room, with the woman sitting next to me, were flitting though my brain. I looked at the gorgeous Lynette sipping at her wine and for the first time that night I found the situation arousing.

“Don’t move.” Lynette almost shouted as I lowered the glass from my lips. “Just stay completely still.”

She got off the sofa and went back into the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with her scissors. She came next to me and knelt on the sofa, pointing the scissors at my left ear. “I missed a bit.” I heard a “clip” and relaxed as she withdrew the scissors. “There.” She smiled, but didn’t move away.

Our eyes met and locked for a few seconds. I felt an instantaneous rise in the tension in the room and just about had time to recognize it when Lynette brought her face closer to mine and kissed me.

It was a soft, non-committal kiss, wonderfully sensual in the way our lips pressed and moved slightly to explore each other’s’ interest in the moment. Lynette’s hand came up to gently caress my cheek and I opened my lips for her, letting her tongue come inside and confirming our shared desire. I pushed into her mouth, tasting her and feeling the soft warmth of her tongue as it slowly moved around and explored.

In a night of surprises, somehow the words Lynette spoke when we broke the kiss and looked into each other’s eyes at a distance of four inches did not surprise me. “I’d like to make love with you.”

This was not a time for words. We’d talked a lot that evening and it was time for our senses to take over and find peace for Lynette, and who knew what for me. I kissed her again, confirming beyond a doubt where we were headed as she kissed back hungrily and sensually.

When we broke again Lynette reached behind and switched off one of the two table lamps that lit the room. A softer light folded around us as she straddled me, sat in my lap and kissed me again.

I wrapped my arms around Lynette’s back and pulled her into me as we locked mouths and I felt her hands start to stroke the sides of my face. She felt warm beneath her blouse and for one moment I reflected that being here with Lynette was something I’d thought about many times but dared not even hope for. She pulled her face away but continued to rest her hands on the sides of my face while she looked at me. She smiled the softest, warmest smile I’d ever seen.

“You don’t mind that I’m an older woman, do you?”

“You look wonderful.” was all I could manage, and apparently all I needed to say.

Lynette continued to sit in my lap as she unbuttoned her blouse, slowly, and watched my face as she did. When the last button was loose she pulled the shirt off her arms and let it fall to the floor, revealing her plain white bra and the gorgeous promise of her breasts being held in there. “Do you want to take it off?” she offered.

I reached behind her and thankfully managed to unclip the bra without major difficulty or delay. It fell loose on her shoulders and I waited for a few seconds, savoring the moment, before I pulled the straps off her shoulders and revealed her breasts. Lynette may have been worried about her age, but her breasts didn’t droop at all, they just sat there, displaying her lovely dark nipples that were well defined even in the soft light and looked like they were already excited. I carefully brought up my hand to feel the weight of her breast and then to feel the nipple as I brushed my fingers across it. Her eyes closed as my soft touch set off pleasure sensors all over her body.

Lynette’s hands came up to my shoulders and I used both of my hands to explore her breast, the exposed skin down to her waist.

“You look beautiful.” I cooed again as I looked at her and watched the movements of my hands and how her skin reacted to my touch.

“You make me feel it.” Lynette breathed. She let her hands fall and start to unbutton my shirt and my hands fell lower, now feeling around the waistband of her skirt. I leaned up from the sofa and kissed her nipples gently – first one and then the other, licking at her and biting gently. This stopped her unbuttoning my shirt and I felt Lynette’s breathing deepen.

She reached behind her and undid the zipper on her skirt. I felt the waistband of the skirt loosen and I pushed my fingers down the front. I felt Lynette’s panties and as I slid further down I felt her softness, the distinct outline of her pussy lips and the heat she was generating.

Slowly, Lynette’s head arched back and she closed her eyes with pleasure as my fingers covered her pussy from the outside of her panties. “God, that feels so good.” she panted as I pushed a little harder and a little deeper down between her legs.

September 2018
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