It had been nearly twenty years since I had seen Rex and Dru. Actually the last time I had seen them was at my wedding. Rex had been my boss at the last firm I had worked before going out on my own. He became more than a boss, taking me under his wing...becoming a mentor and sharing his vast experience with me. I was grateful for the opportunity and became quite close to him, close enough to be my best man when I married Ellen.
A month after our wedding, the company closed down and we parted ways...heading off for new jobs and greener pastures. We kept in contact through the years, but never found the time to get together. As I was heading up there way for an extended business trip, I decided to make the time...to drop in and visit my dear friends. Of course they invited me to stay with them at their spacious house outside of Richmond. When I arrived, they greeted me warmly and within a few hours, it felt like we hadn't been apart at all. It was a wonderful afternoon, catching up with Rex and Dru finding out how their children had turned out...and above all...how talented and brilliant their grandchildren were. I had to tease them about becoming old fogies, reminding them that they were ancient compared to my young age. Of course that got a resounding "fuck you" from both of them. Later that evening, their next door neighbors dropped by to say hello. Everyone was having such a good time, Rex and Dru decided to invite them to stay for dinner.
Charles and Carla were about the same age as Rex and Dru, with similar Southern backgrounds and pedigrees. I decided to turn on my adopted Southern charm and complimented both women...remarking how much younger they both seemed than the two old codgers. "Too late," chirped Dru..."you already told me I was an old fogy." She grinned and gave me a rather unladylike finger, while Carla took the compliment with a delightful blush and flashing smile. Just before dinner, we found ourselves sitting together on the sofa. She took the opportunity to thank me privately.
"Thank you, Fletcher," she whispered, cradling my arm between her ample breasts. "It's been a long time since anyone noticed me for something other than my cooking." I was a bit surprised at her remark but even more surprised when she leaned over and kissed me lightly on the cheek. She quickly pulled back when Dru called us all into dinner. I stood and offered her my hand. She took it, but made no move to get up. Instead her eyes gave me a bold once over, her eyes lingering at my crotch.. She looked up, that telltale blush on her cheeks, and stared into my eyes. "By the way, your not so bad yourself...not to mention the fact that your hands are huge." Her face turned beet red when she realized the possible interpretation of her remark. "Oh my." She laughed softly and shook her head. "Did I really say that? Let's go eat," she said laughingly.
Her remarks certainly helped my ego. I guess the daily workouts and personal trainer were worth the price. At 51, I was still in great shape, even maintaining a respectable six-pack. But poor Rex and Charles were showing the signs of rapidly becoming "dick-doo's," an old Southern expression for a man "who's belly sticks out further than his dick do." It appeared the heaviest thing they had lifted in a long time was a twelve ounce beer can. But, true to my words, Dru and Carla were both hiding their 50 plus years incredibly well.
A few small wrinkles and tiny wisps of gray hair hinted that Dru might be over forty. Her long, dark hair was gathered up into an unruly bun, the loose wisps of hair casually framing her lovely face set off her gorgeous green eyes and pouty pink lips perfectly. She had kept her petite body taut and tan, and as always, was wearing clothes to highlight that remarkable ass of hers...one that I couldn't forget the embarrassment of smacking at a Christmas party many years ago. However, my wife, my fiancée at the time, was standing at my side during that one and only public indiscretion. And, she never let me forget. She did chalk it up to that bottle of Tequila I had managed to pretty much destroy and to this day keeps a watchful eye on me at parties.
There was a more private side to our relationship...one that lasted till the end of the company forced us to part ways. For nearly two years, Dru had been my submissive, and we had enjoyed an unbridled exploration pf the steamy world of D/S. I was grateful that our relationship had remained secrete all these years. Accept for an occasional tryst, mostly accidental encounters with wannabe submissive women met on business trips, my life was a vanilla ice cream sundae topped with whipped cream.
Those with a similar past understand the longing carefully locked away in my heart. Don't get me wrong, my life with Ellen was wonderful, but I often wondered what it would be like if Dru and I had remained together. I could still feel and taste that wanton bitch, who, with a single command or the crack of my hand across her upturned cheeks, could morph from the shy and devoted wife of another to my insatiable whore whose sole purpose in life was to satisfy my vile cravings. Yes...I missed her...that lifestyle...a leopard never really changes its spots. Perhaps in another life I might spend my days plowing her tight, petite body with my god given and gratefully received eleven inches; yes, my hands really are huge.
Carla, on the other hand was the consummate "big Southern blond." Nothing about her was chiseled, sharp or hard edged. Everything was smooth, gently rounded and ripe. I could only imagine what she looked like in her twenties...a walking wet dream that produced a forest of wood where ever she was. She was tall, our eyes almost even when I looked into them. Like Dru, there were those little wrinkles and wisps of gray, but her hair was long, pulled back casually with strands of hair escaping to float gracefully about her face. Her body had a mature fullness perfectly sculpted by time.
The lushness of her body even made her simple, flowing summer dress seem erotic. When the light was right, you could see the shadowy form of her huge breasts, gently fettered by her bra...thin straps and a narrow back made it clear she wore it for modesty not for support. I was surprised she wore a thong, uncharacteristic of a woman her age. I could only envy Charles...trying to picture myself with those long, tan legs wrapped around my neck, my hands under her lush hips, as I pounded my cock in and out of her body. I was delighted to meet her, but grateful she lived in Richmond. She was far too tempting, though I had to assume her breeding made her an unlikely candidate for an affair.
The unbalanced seating arrangement placed me across from Carla. Nevertheless, I enjoyed watching her graceful movements during the meal. The conversation was delightful, and by meals end, I was enchanted with this unattainable woman. Finally, like most good things, the evening came to an end. We hugged each other goodbye more like old friends than new acquaintances. Before going to bed, Rex asked if I would like to play golf the next day. Charles, Rex and two other friends were heading up to Culpepper to play a course they had heard was top shelf. I begged off, not being much of a golfer and that I would really appreciate the time to rest for my upcoming week. He understood completely, apologizing for not being able to cancel his plans, but warned me..."You are going to be stuck with the girls." 'Rats,' I thought, almost laughing out loud. To think I would be stuck in the company of two lovely women instead of being out with four pot-bellied old men.
I was more tired than I had imagined. I was out the moment my head hit the pillow. When I finally managed to wake up, I felt completely refreshed. It was late. I glanced at my watch and discovered it was past 9:30. I hurriedly stepped into the bathroom to start my SSS routine and discovered a note taped to the mirror. "Be back later in the afternoon...have an emergency at the hospital that needs my attention. Carla has volunteered to babysit an will probably have breakfast ready when you get there. Just let yourself in, she is expecting you...Dru."
It took little less than a half hour before I was walking into Carla's kitchen. "That had better be you Fletcher, or I am in deep trouble." She laughed, turning to look back over her shoulder, flashing me a smile before returning to the task at hand on stove. "Coffee's to your right...pour me a cup, will you...cream and three sugars, Sugar." She laughed lightly. "I hope you understand Southern," she quipped. I laughed and moved towards the coffee pot which was completing its last gurgle and hiss.
"I would be delighted ma'am," drawing out the words in my best Andy Griffith voice.
"Smart ass," she growled, laughing as she stirred the wonderful smelling food in her frying pan. I took the moment to make sure she was as beautiful as I had thought last night. Quite a change from last night, I thought. From the back, she appeared more like a young, free spirit of the younger generation instead of a grandmother of four. She was wearing a loose tank top that ended about half way down her back. It was a bright yellow, matching one of the many colors contained in her long, floral patterned skirt than hung low on her lush hips. It was made of that swishy material that flutters around a womans body like a swarm of bees, lighting on any surface they wished to reveal. Her bare feet completed her mother earth look...a look free enough to bring back images of that time long ago.
