"Do you trust me?"
"Yes," he replied quickly but with just a trace of nervousness in his voice.
I slipped the blindfold over his eyes and whispered, "Cinnamon" in his ear.
"The safe word," he said quietly, turned to where I had been moments before.
"Uh-huh," I replied as he jumped, startled because I had moved without making a noise and my voice came from in front of him.
Standing, I began unbuttoning his shirt. He leaned forward, his lips searching in vain to kiss me.
"No, not yet, no kissing, it's not when you are ready, it's only when I am ready," I said as I leaned out of the way of his inviting lips and tongue.
He started to say something and I "shhh'd" him. "No more words, just silence."
I hadn't stopped unbuttoning and now his shirt was open.
He was tall, about 6.1 and about 200 pounds, is in good but not great shape.
Muscular and attractive in a small-town way, but not "Hollywood" handsome.
I reached up and using both hands, careful not to rub my body against his any more than necessary, I removed his shirt. I quietly inhaled, momentarily losing my way as I took in his scent.
Thinking to myself, "Motor oil, new tires, old leather," it was a combination of his cologne and natural scent that always made my knees a little weak.
He was older than me, a lot older. Older even than my own father, at fifty-five. Few of my friends would have even given him a second glance.
Quietly confident, calmly powerful, there was something about him that was different from the guys I was normally attracted to.
At only 27, he had asked me in moments of self-awareness, "What was it I saw in him and why was I wasting my time with an old man when I could have anyone I could choose?"
Each time he asked, I answered the same way, "I have tried younger men, and more than a few younger women, each was okay, but no one makes me feel the way that you do," he would try to convince me I was wrong, but the deepness in his deep blue eyes belied those words. I would lose myself in them, and each time we would kiss and soon the conversation would be lost in the passion we shared.
I was secretly pleased that as the months passed he was asking this question less and less.
His shirt fell to the ground and I used both hands and fingers to lightly caress his shoulders and chest, blindfolded I knew that his eyes would be closed anyway. We stood like that for several minutes, I could feel his heart beating, and I felt the rise and fall of his chest and lungs. My fingertips danced and grazed barely in contact with his skin.
A soft breeze eddied around us and teased at the loose strands of my blonde hair. Despite the warmth of the air, small goosebumps appeared on his skin, nervousness or anticipation, I couldn't decide which.
I knew my goosebumps were from anticipation. I had wanted to try this for a long time. I had asked, thinking he would say no, but to my surprise, the answer had been yes.
I had placed the order barely fifteen minutes later and after waiting for what seemed like forever, the package arrived today.
When I suggested tonight at the campground by the beach, he never hesitated.
Now I knelt in front of him; balancing on my knees, I undid his belt.
I loved being on my knees in front of him, I had been on them many times since we had met, tonight was different though.
I noticed his breathing was coming heavier and a light sweat seemed to cover his exposed skin. Pausing, I ran my hands over his ass, down the backs of his pants, and then back up the front of him, purposely avoiding the growing bulge that seemed to be right at my eye level. Everywhere else, I touched, caressed. My fingers traced the underside of his crotch as I finally cupped the soft material that covered his sex.
He inhaled and groaned slightly as my hands finally acknowledged his erection.
My fingers found the button on his pants, deftly undid it, and then slowly unzipped his fly. I could feel him pressing against the zipper. Free of the constraint, his underwear tented into my face, the salty/sweet aroma of him filled my senses.
In the fading light, I could see a growing dark spot of pre-cum on the material and the outline of his cock pressing into the sheer material of his underwear.
I reached up to the waist of his pants, hooked my fingers and thumbs around the belt loops, and pulled down. The material resisted because of the flare of his ass, I pulled harder and the material gave way. Careful not to pull down his underwear ... yet, his pants came down his thighs and then calves. When the material reached his ankles, without being asked, he lifted one foot, then the other as I pulled his pants off and they joined the shirt on the soft ground.
My hands roamed his ass through the thin material of his jockey briefs. I had bought them for him, as silky and smooth as panties, these held something that you would never find normally in panties; the bulge stretched the sheer fabric to the limits. The dark spot had only grown since we began and I used my lips to suck the clear fluid from them.
A moan escaped from him as my lips and hot breath nuzzled up against his underwear while my hands and fingers explored the backs of his legs from his knees to his toned ass. Although in his mid-50's, he had stayed in shape and I could feel the strong muscles from those exercises.
My lips kissed up and down his covered cock as my fingers and thumbs slid towards his waist. Repeating as before, my thumbs hooked the waistband, this time of the underwear, and pulled down.
Caught again by his ass and then by his wonderful cock, there was resistance. Taking my time, I pulled the fabric out, stretching it over the thick cock and heavy balls revealing them to the twilight.
He wasn't the biggest I had ever had, but he might be the thickest. His pre-cum made strands of what looked like a spider's web of clear fluid as I continued to pull his underwear down to his ankles and off. He used my head to steady himself as he lifted one foot and then the other to allow me to remove his last bit of clothing. His socks and shoes having been left neatly by the picnic table earlier.