What made having her an absolute necessity to him was the unselfconsciousness with which this woman of advanced age was dressed as a seventeen year old slut intent on sin. It was the utter incongruence of her that made her irresistible.
He had seen her at a table in the corner as he walked through the door of the café. There was no need for him to look around to see if there were any other women around; younger, more obviously attractive or conventionally desirable. It did not matter. It was impossible that he might prefer any of them, so he went and sat at a table quite close to her, though not right next to her. He did not want to be too obvious, even in approaching a woman as obvious as her; nor did he want to her to see how obvious it was that he wanted her and how much he assumed that he was obviously going to have her.
She had been there for fifteen minutes or so before he had arrived and she had eyed all of the men older than sixteen and younger than forty and seen that none of them were adventurers and her eye had fixed on the door in the hope that an adventurer might come. When he arrived she saw him, knew instinctively that what she had been hoping for had arrived and looked away as though she had not noticed him. But he had seen her notice him and she had seen him notice her. He sat down and the game of surreptitious, yet indiscreet looking and looking away began between them.
He was a man of thirty one and an erotic adventurer. He was notably good looking and slim and tall with dark brown hair, dark brown eyes a fine jaw line and good taste in clothes. He pursued the unlikely, the bizarre and the grotesque. He did not seek some ideal woman, or pursue the essence of femininity through a string of beautiful women through whom he might reach some imaginary ideal. He wanted to have every different kind of woman there was and he wanted them for what they were and not what they could represent to him.
She was a woman of sixty-two, but her manner of dress made her appear younger, though not as young as seventeen. A generous observer would have said fifty or so. She was heavy, though not fat and her long peroxide blonde hair was pulled up and tied tight on the top of her head, with a pony tail hanging down the back to her neck and beyond. Her make up was garish and thickly applied. Her lips were painted with the brightest red lipstick and she wore a deep powder blue eye shadow that you could have left fingerprints in. Her eyes were brown and the tones of her skin coffee dark. She was wearing a very tight leopard skin print top that clung to every roll of her torso. The neckline ventured as far south as it could without allowing her very generous boobs to tumble out, though tumbling was only a possibility because they were being pushed up by a bra, their natural bias being to hang.
The bra, as he was later to discover, was red with a decorative lacy pattern around its edges, and entirely see-through, and its outline pressed now against the material of her leopard skin print top. Below she had favoured the tightest of jeans, which clung to her very ample behind and, were she to open her legs a little, would display a very well defined cameltoe, and from the back of which rose the string thin strap of a red thong, the waistband of which had got itself nestled between two of those sumptuous rolls. On her feet were black patent leather four inch heeled stilettos, out of the end of which poked toes whose nails were painted crimson, as were her long fingernails. The excessive quantity of jewellery: a great many bracelets on both wrists, rings on every finger and both thumbs, long dangling earrings that clinked when she moved her head, and an anklet; all over her silver and gold side by side, and they were of expensive type.
She smoked a long, thin cigarette held in a long, thin black and gold cigarette holder. She was drinking a coffee and Maltepe Escort had a glass of liqueur on the side. The semi-circles of lipstick on the rim of each grew larger with every sip she took.
This was how she always dressed. She had long abandoned the fight that we all fight in the battle against nature, which we cannot win, and accepted defeat and continued to live and dress as though she had won. She gloried in the grotesque spectacle that she was and she knew that every now and then she would meet a young man who had a taste for the grotesque and very mature. She had accepted her body’s journey toward decay and had learned that there were young men who liked such bodies and she sought chance meetings with them and sometimes found them. She went out always with hope, but not with expectation, and she was never disappointed when she did not get lucky and she was always very pleased when she did. She had accepted life.
He looked over at her and as he did, she stopped looking at him and turned her head away and pretended to be looking out of the window. A few seconds later she looked back and he looked away. Then a minute or so was allowed to pass and she looked at him again and feeling her eyes eating him, he looked back and this time she did not look away immediately, but allowed her eyes to continue their meal for a second or two before turning aside. He crossed his legs to hide the bulge that his erect cock had pushed up in the crotch of his trousers.
They were locked onto each other, but he would have to approach her soon, before the game became a parody of itself and the moment lost. Timing was of the greatest importance and the time it would take for his erection to go down would be enough time to wait before getting up and going to her table.
That brief time passed and he rose and walked to her table. She knew that he was going to come. His pretext was to ask her for a light. It was vaguely plausible that he did not have a lighter or matches with him, but transparent in that there were other people sitting at tables closer to him who were smoking. In the circumstances it was perfect.
He arrived at her table and asked her for a light. She looked at him feigning disinterest and said yes and picked up the overly ornate gold lighter that was placed on top of a black leather cigarette box cover and handed it to him. The cover had a heart shaped in little gold sequins on it. The sequins were made of real gold.
He light his cigarette and as he handed the lighter back to her asked
‘May I sit here?’
She nodded assent.
He sat down opposite her and before he could speak she saved him from a line, as none could have caught the moment, by saying ‘are you trying to pick me up young man?’
‘That depends on whether you want to be picked up.’ He replied.
‘I do’ she said.
‘Then I am.’
‘Good. Let’s go.’
She called to the waiter and settled her bill. She refused his offer to pay and paid his too.
Their departure together did not go unnoticed and was sniggered over by some other customers. They did not care, because they understood and the sniggerers did not.
‘My car is parked around the corner’ she said, as they emerged onto the street.
They got into her car. It was a year old top of the range black convertible BMW. As she slid the key into the ignition he asked her
‘Where are we going?’
Neither of them spoke during the fifteen minute drive. They arrived at a large villa and pulled into the driveway.
‘My husband is away and my children are married with children and homes of their own’ she said as she stopped the car.
Once inside the house, the interior of which was expensively and gaudily decorated, they sat in leopard skin covered armchairs.
‘I won’t offer you a drink. We will not waste time on preliminaries.’
He Ümraniye Escort just sat and lusted for her.
‘How old are you?’
‘How old do you think I am?’
‘Fifty or so.’
‘Thank you for not being ridiculous by saying late thirties and thank you for pretending that you believe that I am at least ten years younger than you must know I am. I am sixty two.’
‘You are very direct.’
He sat silently and waited.
‘I know myself and I know others. It is a gift of mine. I like younger men. But not so many younger men like a woman of my age. When one who does enters a café I am sitting in, I know him immediately. I let him see that I am available and if he makes a move I let him pick me up.
‘You are here’ she said ‘because you are an adventurer. You are not desperate for a fuck. You are a very good looking young man and you know that you could have a great many of the young women around you, and I am sure that you do. But when you entered that café I knew that I had a chance of having today what I always look for.
She paused for a moment to light a cigarette. While she had been talking her nipples had stiffened and their outline was visible through her clothes. She was also now sitting with one leg slung over the other at a right angle to it, and two parallel little rolls protruded voluptuously and a line was drawn straight and clear, where her jeans covered her pussy. His eyes shifted alternately between the unsubtle hints of her pussy and her nipples. His cock was fully erect and he did nothing to hide it. He sat waiting for her to continue.
‘You are here’ she said ‘because you want to find out what it is like to fuck a sixty-two year old woman who dresses like a teenage whore. So let’s do it. Come here and fuck me.’
He stood and walked over to her and as he was about to lean forward to kiss her, he heard her say ‘I love big cocks’ and felt her fingers squeezing the bulge in his crotch. There was a slight tug and the light buzz of his zip descending and finally he felt the wet warmth of her mouth as she began sucking his knob.
He expected her to stop after a couple of minutes and undress him and undress herself, but she continued to suck his cock and began to make greedy and contented sighing sounds and gobble him off more and more fiercely. As he felt his orgasm coming he began to buck towards her and his hand grabbed the back of her head, but there was no need. This cock greedy old slut was not going to do anything other than suck all of the spunk out of his cock and drink it.
He looked down at her bobbing head and saw the grey roots of her peroxide hair. The sight finished him and his spunk spurted into her mouth. She knew exactly when it was coming and stopped sucking and held his cockhead mid way between the back of her teeth and the back of her throat, sucked in her cheeks and took the blast without bracing for it, and felt with delight the cum jets hit her throat. She gulped them down.
She held his cock in her mouth as it grew flaccid and finally shrank and slithered out between her lips.
‘Go and sit down’ she said.
He obeyed. He sat back in the chair. She came over to him and kissed him on the lips and took his shirt and pulled it over his head. Then she undid his trousers and took them off. He was naked and his slimy cock rested over his thigh and she leant down and gave it a lingering kiss.
‘I’m going to strip for you’ she told him.
Clothed, she was one thing. Naked she was going to be something else. He was not going to get fresh seventeen. He was not going to get ripe fifty-two. He was going to get worn and sagging sixty-two. Every second of it.
Standing before him, she pulled her top over her head and peeled off her jeans. The rolls of her torso descended and the flesh around her bra and İstanbul Escort thong bulged. She stood for a moment to be admired and then leaned towards him and told him to undo her bra. Her heavy tits poised above his face and straining, he reached around her and unclipped her bra. Her tits fell into his face, and rested on his cheeks. She let them sit there for a long moment and then moved a little back, offering her large nipples for him to suck.
As he sucked her nipples and felt them like little thumbs in his mouth his hand reached between her legs and he pushed three fingers past the thin red string into her wet, waiting cunt. She sighed as her cunt stretched open as the three fingers penetrated it and then shrank a little around them. He pushed them in and out of her vigorously. She ground her mons veneris against his wrist and with a series of gasps came into his hand, coating it with a layer of gleaming cunt slime.
She moved away and returned to her chair and sat back in it with each of her legs over its arms, her arse parked at the chair’s edge, her great tits hanging over her stomach, the rolls of which swelled outwards and downwards. Her worn and tarnished bronze skin shone in the sunlight that streamed through the window, and the thin red string of her thong embedded itself between the wet lips of her shaved and glistening 1945 vintage cunt.
He went to her and knelt between her open legs and began to lick and suck her delicious and nearly antique twat. He had been expecting that fucking her was going to be an extravaganza of KY and resemble a medical examination, but her cunt oozed its own natural juices in copious quantities in anticipation at the sucking and fucking it was about to receive (and for which it would be truly thankful).
He brought her to orgasm again with his mouth and then stood up and said
‘I’m going to rub my cock over every inch of you.’
In a swoon ‘do it, polish me,’ she said.
He began by brushing it over her left tit, concentrating on rubbing his helmet around and over her nipple. Then he lifted her arm and threw it over the top of the chair and began to rub it in her armpit. She opened her eyes and looked at him and said
‘I thought I had done everything. You kinky bastard.’
She brought her arm down so that his cock was clamped in her sweaty pit and said ‘go on baby, fuck mamma’s armpit.’
Her other hand slipped down over her stomach and shamelessly wanked her pussy.
He pulled his cock out from between her hanging tit and her tensed arm and went around to her other side and rubbed his cock over her other tit and fucked her other armpit. Then he set about rubbing his cock all over her, until he reached her cunt. But he was not going to fuck her just yet.
He admired her gaping cunt and decided that it could take it. This was something that he had never done before. It was as if she had read his thought.
‘Do it’ she said ‘fist fuck me.’
One, two, three, four fingers, and then his thumb slid in, and then he pushed his whole hand up her. He watched her face as she winced and then relaxed into joy. She was stretched open as wide as she would go and he wished that her cunt would suck all of him into her. But now, knowing how truly to reach into the depths of her, it was time to fuck her, so he pulled out his fist and watched as her cunt slowly retracted to its natural size and positioned himself, gripped his cock and guided it into her without need to open her twat with the fingers of his other hand.
His cock was indeed big, as she had said when she had seen the bulge in his trousers coming towards her, and he slid it all the way up her. Her cunt took easily and without resistance the whole eight inches of it. He was in her up to her cervix and she gasped and groaned and sighed with pleasure and contentment as he went at her fiercely for a full twenty minutes without pause and she came four times and then a fifth when he pulled his cock out of her and shot his spunk over her heaving over ripe tits and her wrinkly and make up smeared face.
She was fresh and seventeen in this moment of her ecstasy.