Afternoon Delight

They met during a job interview. She was in charge of fundraising for a cutting-edge nonprofit organization, having left behind a stultifying job adding to the already overflowing coffers of a renowned Ivy League college. He was extricating himself from a long legal career, hoping to lead the nonprofit's strategic growth plan. It was a panel interview with five interviewers and one job aspirant.

He had a submitted a requested writing assignment that had taken the panel by surprise with its sharp originality and capacious worldview. He had aced three previous interviews, and his appearance before the panel was eagerly anticipated. As everyone gathered and made their introductions, she was pleased by his non-traditional appearance: older, shorter and grayer, yet crisply dressed in tailored wool slacks, ecru buttoned-down shirt, lyrical flowered tie, and fitted navy blue blazer. He sported a neatly trimmed beard that belonged on his face, and a thinning but still full head of hair, which, like his beard, alternated between salt-and-pepper and monochromatic silver. She pegged him to be on the other side of fifty, but infused with an irreverent wit and incongruously youthful outlook. In fact, he was fifty-three, but his self-image was rooted at twenty-two. She didn't find him to be handsome, but appealing in a more general way.

She was an attractive bottle-blond, now approaching forty, with a husband and children, who realized she was being worn down by the ordinary burdens of life. The uber-hip organization she had recently joined with such enthusiasm had been revealed as the kind of Dilbert-plagued dysfunctional bureaucracy she thought she had left behind, albeit with a much lower paycheck. She still adored the poor middle-school kids they worked with, but she felt the weight of rolling the rock up the hill every day. Still, she knew that her life was a very good one and she quietly appreciated the undeniable fact that she drew admiring looks from men and boys of all ages. Attentive exercise maintained her slim, lithe and athletic frame.

After he was offered the job, he called to ask if she'd meet for coffee to help him decide whether to accept. There were, in fact, two Starbucks from which she could choose, one near the office and one around the corner from her condo. She chose the latter, after a brief internal monologue she pretended to ignore. On the appointed date and time, she arrived to find him already seated next to a comfy chair he'd saved for her. He wore a handsome leather jacket broken in from long usage, a starched French blue shirt, pressed khakis, and leather boat shoes. She told herself he still wasn't particularly good looking, but he did know how to dress.

She had taken far too much time deciding what to wear, finally settling on a pleated skirt that was just a little too short and a white shirt-collar blouse that was a little too snug. Her legs were her most appealing feature she knew, long and graceful, and she stepped into heels that were a little too tall for the occasion, but improved her posture to advantage. Her breasts were small but pretty, and she slipped into a lace bra and panty set that she'd have a hard time explaining, if asked.

As it turned out, they talked for an hour without ever really discussing the job offer. She found him both engaging and reassuring, someone to whom she felt comfortable revealing things about herself that she normally only told her closest women friends of longstanding acquaintance. Their age difference, the fact that they were both married with kids, the small and large disappointments they'd each accumulated over the years, all combined to open a conversational intimacy that she found both safe and bracing. She felt almost as if she'd been drinking, with his physical appearance improving the more she told him about herself and the more he listened to her shared confidences with real sympathy. As their conversation grew animated, they touched each other's forearms and laughed too loudly without feeling self-conscious, aware of their shared feeling of falling into close friendship.

At one point, her hand wrested on his thigh and remained there with perfect composure. Neither of them felt awkward about it, but she was acutely aware of enjoying the physicality and warmth of his limb. He said something funny and she squeezed him gently to show her amusement. He leaned forward to touch her on the shoulder and they paused talking briefly to dwell in the moment, he taking in her perfume, she his cologne.

"Hey," she said. "I've got to call my husband and make arrangements for the kids." Her brain was calculating at a fast clip. "Could we stop by my house for a minute? It's around the corner." She fumbled with the key in the lock, working herself up into a barely contained state of tension about what the heck she thought she was doing, a rhetorical question she did not attempt to answer. She'd figure out a way to keep the house empty for at least a couple of hours, as she made a couple of quick calls and returned to the living room with an open bottle of wine and two glasses.

He was already seated on the loveseat, a good choice she thought, as she sat down next to him, flipped off her shoes and poured the wine. She extended her pretty legs onto the coffee table, crossed her feet at the ankles, flipped her hair back with her free hand, and fell back on the couch, angling herself ever-so-slightly in his direction, her blouse just grazing the fabric of his shirt.

The conversation resumed with the same comfortable intimacy they'd enjoyed at the coffee shop, and she refilled their glasses twice. It was easy for them to gradually inch closer together, shoulders connected, turning their faces toward each other, well aware of their physical and aural proximity and how much they each enjoyed the wine buzz. Their voices lowered as their mouths got nearer and nearer, and when she shifted to tuck her legs beneath her and turned toward him as she smoothed her skirt with her free hand, his eyes silently answered the question she had not asked. She quietly put her glass on the table, took his face in both her hands, and kissed him purposefully.

He reached behind her and pulled her to him, as their mouths opened wide to exchange heat, breath and searching tongues. They tasted each other with the same direct and genuine feeling with which they talked, just switching from verbal to lingual conversation. The kissing was deep, long and slow, each of them greedy and generous at the same time, unconscious of the dimensional world around them. They pulled each other into a moving embrace, squirming their torsos, rubbing their chests in exploration, massaging each other's backs. He enlaced his fingers in her hair and she relinquished any control to him, as he shifted his weight onto her and gently laid her back down.

She welcomed him onto her, and felt his full erection against her skirt. She repositioned herself to align their crotches, and she took his ass in both hands and drove him into the space between her legs, swooning at the stimulation. Her nipples sharpened appreciatively, and she widened her open mouth and searched more deeply with her tongue. He pinched the points of her bra carefully, and she squeezed his round ass to convey her approval. She ground her hips into him, extracting a small whimper of appreciation from him.

Her skirt had flipped up shamelessly, exposing her tiny panties and creamy thighs. She brought her knees up and exposed herself to him, rubbing her swelling vagina against the considerable hardening behind his zipper. She was starting to become wet down there, which increased as he began to undo the buttons of her blouse, which she helped in a clumsy and eager way. He slid his hands underneath her bra, stroking the smooth alabaster skin of her breasts. She arched her back to present herself to him, and he lightly traversed each erect and perfect nipple with an index finger. She shuddered quietly and flooded herself with her own liquid.

They somehow managed to remove her bra and he suckled each nipple in long, slow arcs. She held the back of his head with one hand and his hardened cock with the other, exploring its length from tip to testicles. Her stroking increased in speed and intensity, to the point that he sat bolt upright to keep her from finishing him off. He grappled with his belt buckle and she managed his zipper, and they cooperated to heave him out of his pants and boxers. His prick was alert and ready, and she took it in both hands as if it belonged to her.

She squeezed and stroked his shaft, as he reached out and helped her out of her panties. They broke free briefly to throw off the rest of their clothing, gratified at the shock of their mutual nakedness, the instantaneous availability of all that skin, and writhed fiercely into each other, burying their tongues into each other's faces. Her hands went from his ass to his balls to his shoulders to his back, feeling his chest with her own, taking his cock onto the length of her pussy, grinding her clit as she rocked against him. He pulled at her ass cheeks, widening the space and presenting her anus, the exposure of which she was acutely aware. She stroked a finger up the entire length of his ass crack, and let her middle finger rest lightly on his asshole, causing him to drive his hips into her and driving his cock deep into her cunt. After impaling himself completely inside her wet heat, they both extracted him decisively, not yet ready to bring things to a conclusion. She gave his now wet hard-on an appreciative squeeze to let him know he'd soon be back inside.

Since they had already interrupted the festivities, she took him by the wrist into the bedroom - flagpole waiving proudly - and fell back onto the comforter, pulling him on top of her. She had just recently bought one of those all-in-one bedding sets from one of the hotel chains that cared about things like thread counts, and she was excited at the prospect of putting it to good use. The mattress was deep and wide and sumptuous, and they sank into it under their combined weight. Other than the fact that they were already naked and steaming, they implicitly agreed to start over by burying their tongues into each other's faces and losing their senses inside those dark cavities. They squirmed their bodies in shifting alignments, writhing like two snakes wrestling.

Finding himself now on the bottom, with his two hands in firm possession of the full mounds of her ass, grinding into his grateful prick for all she was worth, he pushed her torso up so he could take her breasts into his mouth. Her nipples sparkled against his tongue, and he flicked and licked them with his full attention. She was delirious with the need to help him, twisting toward him one way and then the other, so that he might do whatever he pleased with her chest. No longer feeling the divine pressure of his cock, she reached behind her and took him in her hand, applying enough pressure to make her squeeze her tits harder, making them both wince in gratitude. She pistoned his prick and somehow held herself back from climbing on board and burying it deep inside her pussy.

His mouth needed more and he knew where to get more. He pushed her ass up again until her cunt was poised above his face, and he dove in. She absorbed the jolt of electricity that shot through her and reached out to the pillows with outstretched arms, spreading her fingers wide to open herself to the maximum extent anatomically possible. He ate her with single-minded focus, and she rocked herself against him like an animal in heat. He did not relent, but fastened her ass in his grip and stretched his tongue as far as it would go, searching her slickness, covering his face with her mess and her stink. She released his prick and spread her ass cheeks apart, signaling that her asshole needed attention, an idea she could not have consciously expressed. His middle finger found the tightly closed threshold and applied a measured amount of pressure to which she responded by sitting upright and forcing his finger up inside her, and repositioning her pussy for maximum clitoral advantage.

Feeling her asshole relax, he stiffened his finger and let her guide him in. Both this hand and her backside were drenched with her fluid, so he met little resistance, and she widened the opening and settled herself down and, and slowly and carefully, took his finger deep inside her ass. Her head and shoulders fell back, her chest thrust forward and she held her own breast meats and pinched her nipples hard, as she rocked her pelvis and raked his face with her pussy. His tongue set to work on her clit, as she descended inside herself, unaware of the guttural noise she was emitting that needed to escape from confinement. She grabbed a handful of his hair as the cum poured out of her, soaking his beard and racking her in spasm. She was eternally grateful for his finger up her backside, making it impossible for her to hold anything back. She shook violently, but he did not relent, and he felt the direct current of her orgasm through his mouth and pulsating against the rigid dowel of his finger. They rode it out together, as she produced and he drank copious amounts of cum, served with a garnish of percussive sounds of repeated but insensible syllables.

Her release kicked out the supportive scaffolding holding her body erect, and she collapsed onto the bed in a sloppy heap. As they both struggled to regain their breath, their chests heaving together, she pushed herself up to her hands and knees and crab-walked her face down to his still-hard prick, straddling his face with her dripping hole. If she had to guess she would have assumed that steam billowed from her cunt like a manhole in a Martin Scorsese movie. She seized his cock with purpose and licked its tip, just as he pushed her ass down and swallowed her pussy again, albeit this time in the approved sixty-nine position.

The art of the blow job was as natural to her as breathing. She had sucked off more men than she could count and enjoyed it each and every time. She could swallow if need be, but the important thing, she knew, was to make it last forever. If he couldn't take it that long, so be it. She lapped him up, down and sideways, and collected his balls loosely with her manicured nails. She paid close attention to his curly and fulsome pubic hair, as she swallowed him fully and offered him appreciative gagging sounds. She was aware of his tongue that was sucking her clit, and she ground herself into his face to offer encouragement, and bobbed her head with considerable rapidity as she corkscrewed his shaft in her tight grip. Her ate her out fiercely, and began to reinsert his finger into the void between her smooth but sticky ass cheeks. She knew a good idea when she got one, and offered her own finger at his hole. He leveraged his hips up off the mattress by pushing down with his feet, released her ass from his tight grip and directed his hands to his own cheeks to spread them apart and welcome her invasion. She complied with his instructions and sucked harder and faster at the same time.

His blazing cock felt magnificent in her eager mouth, and she covered its length and girth with her flourishing tongue. She made a quick assessment of the situation, and her firing neurons decided that, if she wanted to fuck him before their time expired, she needed to get on with it. She pumped his cock harder and faster as a last salute to the joys of fellatio, and then extricated her ass from his face and his embedded finger, and spun around to reposition herself for intercourse. She left her finger buried deep inside his squirming asshole, and lowered herself onto him.

They had long ago passed the point of self-restraint, and she took the full measure of his hardness inside her. There was no more room, but that did not keep them from trying. She did her best to drive her finger in his ass up to her elbow, which he clearly appreciated by attempting to fuck her through the roof of her vaginal cavity. She pounded his balls with her ass, as she sailed away on the song of her sharp voicings of intolerable pleasure. He accepted the reciprocal pleasure of enfolding her warm breasts in his cupped hands, and gently pinched her nipples without any conscious thought. She released words of one syllable and covered his pubic bone with cunt juice. You may cum at any time, she told him, without saying a word, a message he received and understood.

The difficulty of containing himself was advancing inside him, and he took control of her hips and timed the assault to his need. He was trying to prolong their effort, but the finger buried in his ass wasn't helping, or it was helping far too much, he couldn't quite tell. Now they were both making noise, and she was losing control of her spasms as he was relinquishing control over holding his back his own orgasm. No one was in charge anymore, they just bucked like donkeys and rode out the wave. It crashed onto him with a mighty surge, and the cum shot from him and filled her instantly and completely. He made noise with every spurting release, and she welcomed his flood and matched it with her own, overfilling the receptacle and gushing out of her and spilling down his ass, soaking as much of her hand as was exposed from his asshole. He clenched her buried finger to prevent an escape that she did not try to make, as she continued to ride him across each seismic event.

Eventually they stopped moving, their hearts pounding and their chests heaving. They somehow found each other's mouths again and explored each other's tongues, but now in a languorous arc that was unconnected from time and purpose. They thanked each other with a thousand long kisses, a fused embrace from which they did not separate themselves even when they heard the unmistakable dry click of the front door being opened.