She didn't want to go to the wedding. She didn't know the bride at all and the fact that she had been in school with the bride's mother did not help the situation. She was 4 days away from her 39th birthday and the more she tried not to think about it, the more nothing else seemed to matter. She spent the afternoon effectively alone. Typically, she did not feel old but somehow watching the young girls dance and frolic and generally throw themselves at the young boys made her heart ache. All she wanted was a man. She was not particular. He needed to have a penis and a set of car keys to get himself home. Was that too much to ask?
An hour passed. The toast came and went as did a plate of chicken and tasteless gravy. It wasn't until the cake was being cut that she was finally approached. From behind her she heard a voice. She closed her eyes and made a wish. 'A young boy that needed teaching, a divorced dad that needed company.'
She turned to find a ruddy complexion, grey hair, and a belly that pushed open his suit jacket. He mumbled something about dancing and asked a ridiculous question about her going to school with the bride. She asked if he had a room at the hotel. He said no. She told him to get one.
His kiss was warm and dry and tasted of bourbon. All the better. He made quick work of undressing to an undershirt and a pair of boxer shorts. It was almost funny, she was in a movie and he was the ridiculous John. She was the desperate hooker pushed to the breaking point. Suddenly, it was better. Somehow it was hotter. She really thought she was being as slutty as she could get, but she was wrong.
Suddenly she was not scraping the bottom of the barrel. Suddenly she wasn't the desperate old hag bedding the only man that would talk to her. She had been waiting for him to undress her, anticipating old fumbling hands struggling with the buttons running down the front of her dress. Instead she slipped around the bed. She remembered the kitten routine she had played as a girl. She licked her lips. She undid the buttons herself slowly. He hung on every movement.
She crawled to the end of the bed. She should have been nervous but he looked so ridiculous how could she be? "Do I get to see Mr. Winky?" Did that really come out of her mouth?
She pulled him to her and pulled down the silly half boxers. Okay, here was a challenge. Sure, she hadn't been with a lot of men, and sure she was no MTV sex goddess but truthfully, was he just not turned on by her. He wasn't uncooked bacon but he was somewhere between hamloaf and wilted vegetables...
"What's wrong, baby? Doesn't he like me?"
"Oh.. He likes you! He likes you!" he reached for it himself yanking on it. Jiggling it up and down.
"Poor Mr. Winky, Do you think he's like me to suck him."
"Oh! Yes! Yes he would."
She slipped his limp member into her mouth. Sucking it, it started to move. She reached around to his ass, it was fat and shapeless. She pinched it and the cock started to come to life. "Oh, there we go. He's so fat! Don't choke me!" she cooed at him. It helped to keep her from laughing.
She lost herself in the moment. Somehow she let everything slip from her mind. She licked, she sucked. She worked the short fat cock between her lips. It was gross. It was dirty and naughty. She wasn't just "fucking some guy." She was sucking off a stranger. She was a dirty little slut and he was coming.
"Oh, don't do that." She said and squeezed the small cock.
He whimpered like a dog.
"Don't you want to fuck me?" Puppy dog eyes.
He whimpered again.
