Movie Magic

Sometimes old movies can be quite an inspiration. And shower scenes don't have to involve psychos. Lovers work far better in the script.

___________

My name is Lisa, and it has been a while. For sex, that is. At my age, sex seems to be rare. By sex, I mean with a lover, another person in the room, in my bed, between my legs, in my life. Vibrators and self-love don't count. I love my vibrators, and we know each other very well. They speak to me. Don't get me wrong. I find myself having very meaningful conversations with mine on a regular basis. The dialogue between us could be turned into a movie script:

Me: Hello, beautiful. How are you feeling tonight? Are you charged up for a wonderful time? I'm sooooo horny.

Vibian: (That's her name, my vibratror.) Finally!

Me: What? It hasn't been that long...

V: Where have you been? I'm always here at your beck and call, but you don't call, you don't write... What am I? Chopped liver? I just sit here in this underwear drawer gathering dust while you let my battery die.

Me: I'm sorry. I'll try to be more consistent, but, fuck, life intrudes sometimes. I know it's been a while, but I need you tonight. There's a certain itch down there that needs scratched. So let me just juice you up so you can juice me up...

OK, you get the picture. It's definitely B-grade movie material. Actually, more like C-grade, straight to video. Pretty stilted dialogue, cheesy, but when you need to cum, you're not thinking like Hemingway...

So. Sex. Vibrators have their place, but for my money, I miss real sex with a flesh-and-blood man. I've been married twice, screwed around a little between weddings. Nothing I'd like to get into here. So, what if one of my best friends is an inanimate, clit-sucking, mock-rose vibrator these days? And the other a G-spot, vibrating fake penis with 10 speed settings?

I long for more substance, but I take what I can get. And some nights, I moan a little, come a little, wet the sheets a little, but at the end of the night I only FEEL a little.

I want to feel a lot. My sex life needs more.

So let me tell you what happened! Time to dish...

This morning, I woke up with a start and looked at the clock. It was still early. My head felt foggy, a little out of sorts, and I realized I still had more than an hour before I needed to go to work, so I padded across the bedroom to the bathroom to pee but noticed a body-sized lump under the duvet on the other side of my king-sized bed. What the hell was that? After peeing, I peeked.

Nicholas Miller! My boss! Am I dreaming? How did he get there?

Better question: WHY is he there?

Nick hired me to work in his office, Miller Associates, as a clerk/ troubleshooter/ Girl (woman?) Friday. His office was a mess. He was terrible at, had no patience for, organizing his files, saving correspondence, billing his clients and returning phone calls. He was good at what he did, but the administrative side of his business was sadly neglected.

We met at our kid's T-ball games and got to know each other casually. I'm 58, widowed, and when I say kid, I mean grandkid. My daughter's son and Nick's daughter play for the same team. (It's T-ball, girls are allowed.) Talk about work eventually led to voicing his frustration with his office confusion, and I, being between jobs and available, offered to help out. The work was easy for an anal busybody like me, and I fit right in. Whipped that office into shape before he could say "Holy shit!," and he begged me to stay and maintain it, at least a few days a week, more if I wanted a full time job.

So, he's technically my boss. Though we are also good friends now. Those bleacher conversations evolved into more social interactions. He was divorced, twice, so we had dinner out maybe once a week, or a movie, play, maybe occasional drinks with dancing at the social club. But neither of us were looking for a partner so it stopped there, with never more than a good night peck and hug. Not that I wasn't willing, but I'm not the fast-moving type. I like to savor and prolong my opposite-sex relationships, as my few and far between ones seem to indicate. I have enough girlfriends to keep me busy.

But in the sex department, Vibian, my G-spot vibe, was still my best friend, along with her fraternal-twin, clit-sucking sister, Rose. And Nick's divorce was still fresh, so he didn't seem to be in any hurry, relationship-wise.

So why was he asleep in my bed now? Under my newly dry-cleaned duvet? Naked, or so it appeared from the quick glance under the covers. I needed to remember, quick, and it wasn't coming to me.

Think, Lisa, think.

My head was still a little foggy. I vaguely remembered tequila, there was an empty bottle next to the bed, but when? Where? Why?

Maybe a hot shower would help me recollect.

I ran into the bathroom, closed the door, and reached into my large walk-in shower, twisted the handle to max, and waited for the water to heat up. What the hell is he doing in my bed? Did we have sex? Why can't I remember? I felt between my legs, but all felt normal. My labia wasn't swollen. Nothing felt out of place or recently used. In short, no smoking gun, but that might not mean anything.

I hopped in the shower. As the warm water rolled down my back, and I wet my hair, I pondered my situation. Naked boss in bed. Check. Naked me when I woke. Check. Memory deficient. Full stop...I'm too old for this. All appearances pointed in one direction.

Just then, the shower door opened and there he was. He smiled at me, his body relaxed and at ease, but definitely naked. He seemed to act like it was perfectly natural that he should be there, like it was his shower, not perplexed like I was. No quizzical look on his face. Maybe we did do it! You'd think I'd remember that!

Honestly, I rarely saw him casually dressed, much less as naked as the day is long. In the work environment, he always looked, well, business-like. Usually dressed in suits or at least trousers and a nice shirt. So, other than t-shirts, shorts and sneakers at the T-ball games, his body was a mystery. Now, not so much. He looked as good as...as... damn, he looked good!

Good enough to eat. And I seemed to be feeling a few hunger pangs.

Closing the shower door behind him, he moved under the streaming water with me. He got too close. I moved back a few inches. The large walk-in allowed room to maneuver, and I cautiously circled around him, keeping my distance, covering my breasts and crotch with my hands in a futile protective manner. This seemed to amuse him, as he looked me up and down, somewhat lasciviously I might add. I still hadn't figured out how this happened. I'm not obsessively shy about nudity, but I needed to have a better grasp on the current circumstances before I opened up more to his gaze.

I think I have a nice body for 58. My mirror is kind to me. I exercise, lift weights, eat well, have maintained my figure within maybe 5-10 pounds since I graduated from high school. I'm 5 foot 2. My waist measurement is still a good bit less than either my hips or my chest. My breasts are rounded and still where God put them, not 5 inches lower like some of my girlfriends. I have small, pink nipples with nickel-size areolas. Overall, I've been told I have suckable boobs. And I do love when they are used for that purpose. Especially my left nipple. When a guy is massaging that one with his tongue, while fondling my right breast I get all carnal... but I digress.

My pussy is young looking. My labia is average size, with gentle folds below my clitoris, which peeks out from under its hood only when asked. Rose knows him well (it's a he) and gets him to come out to play with little effort. I keep my pubes trimmed, and shave most of the hair above my clit, but I don't go for the younger girls' totally bald style. I still like to look like a woman, not a little girl. My vagina is in good shape, even after childbirth, though that was years ago. It served me well, when used properly. I usually have no problem with lubrication when I'm turned on. The overall effect, I've been told, is pleasing to the eye, and to the touch, and has stood the test of time. So I can understand the suggestive look in Nick's eyes as he regarded me.

Nick is younger than me, I think, and don't quote me, but 10 years difference is what I remember. That would put him in his late 40s. He is trim, about 5 foot 9 or 10, muscular but not too much, with light hair on his chest and legs. No male model, but he kept himself up. Pubic hair was trim and even; shoulders, pecs and abs had nice definition. No pouch. Light all-over tan. He must frequent the local nude beach. (I need to inquire about that.) When he turned around to put his face under the spray, I glimpsed a nice firm butt, with good definition. And I always appreciate a nice firm butt, on those rare occasions when I'm in the presence of one. As I was now.

Did I mention he was a show-er, not a grow-er? Flaccid, he was hung well. He didn't try to hide it. No porn star, but impressive. Maybe 6 inches hanging down. I imagined erect it would be sporting fun.

Put a pin in that, Lisa, maybe for later.

I figured it was a good time to ask him why we were now sharing a shower, when the most I ever shared with him was a risqué joke. At least up till now.

"So. Nick...ummm...by the way, it's nice to see you this morning, and...ummm...be seen, but I'm having a little difficulty remembering how you got here."

He chuckled and looked at me earnestly. "Don't you remember? Too much tequila?" He shook his head. "After the T-ball game, and after the kids' mothers took them home, we stayed at the field and got into a wonderful conversation about life and shit but eventually settled into discussing our favorite movies. We started with some G-rated, then our favorite R-rated movies, but when I mentioned a few that crossed into X-rated territory, you said you had an old VHS of one of them, so we decided to come here and watch it on your old machine, for shits and giggles. How did you forget all that?"

Oh, fuck, it all came flooding back. He had brought a six-pack for after T-ball in a hand-cooler, and we drank a few in the bleachers, after everyone left, discussing movies. We DID come back here and I DID pull out my VHS copy of the X-rated classic "Deep Throat" (it was before his time - actually before mine too.) and we got into another long discussion, assisted by a bottle of nice tequila I had stashed away, about how fake it was and how stupid it was in retrospect, and how unsexy it was but that the concept was radical for its time. We agreed it was transformative to low-budget adult cinematic history, but as a movie, it sucked. Literally and figuratively. I think at some point we began shedding clothing, first becuase it was warm, but later with maybe some expectation of sex, but the liquor and our age, well...what can I say? We must have fallen asleep without doing anything (I think) but the last thing I remember is joking about how we were naked and maybe we should see if deep throat really was all that fake...alcohol will do that to you.

I mention age, too, because when I was 22, I would have jumped him, and he me, long before a discussion of movies, because sex was so paramount at that age. Nowadays, in our 40s and 50s, good company, meaningful connections, and deep conversations were more important. Sex just topped it off, if it happened, like a cherry on top of the whipped cream of a hot fudge sundae. The sundae would taste just as good, and be just as satisfying, if the cherry was missing.

"So, we didn't do it?"

"Nope"

"No Deep...uh...Throat?"

"Nope. But I still enjoyed the evening. One of my favorites. I will cherish it. You're lot of fun to talk to, Lisa. I really enjoy our company, and I'm so glad we met and I got to hire you and got to know you better."

That clinched it. I dropped my arms, uncovering myself and shared a flirty look with Nick, and he responded with a soft chuckle. I said, "cleanliness is next to godliness" and grabbed the bottle of body soap. We both seemed to relax as we soaped up simultaneously, the ice broken. I lathered a little soap to my crotch, and he reciprocated with his. He watched me and I watched him. It was a turn-on, and I was still a little bit flustered, but warming to the moment. I enjoyed the sound and feel of the streaming water, the soapy lubrication, and his close company. It seemed so... domestic.

This could be comfortably fun! I hadn't done this since my husband was alive.

I rubbed his chest, and he rubbed my shoulders, consciously avoiding my boobs. He was being polite, so I took a risk and slowly reached for his cock. He didn't pull away, so I slathered some soap in my hand, and applied it up and down his soft, yet meaty member.

Unsurprisingly, his dick quickly responded to my touch. I always enjoyed the feel of a hard man, and I had the beginnings of one now, chuckling to myself as I thought of the old adage about "a hard man is good to find." His dick proved the adage. It now stood at attention, pointing at my pussy, like a divining rod pointing toward a water supply.

With the shower water running over us, it was clear Nick was ready for more, so I dropped to my knees and moved down to his cock, rinsed off the soap, and took it in my mouth like an old friend. I proceeded to give him a nice blow job, my lips and tongue working in harmony. Nick was quiet, his hips doing all his talking as he responded to my oral work, though his mouth was open in anticipation, breathing in the humid air.

I still thought "Deep Throat" was just a movie contrivance, but I gave it a go. For shits and giggles. His dick was thick, and the further in my mouth it went, the more I fantasized that it was tickling my clitoris from inside and above. But, alas, reality intruded. My clit only responded to attention from a different direction. It didn't do much for me, but Nick seemed happy with the attempt. He particularly loved the attention he got when my tongue touched his frenulum. His dick literally bounced up and down.

Using my mouth, tongue, and hand, I continued to pump and stroke and fondle his swollen penis until Nick blurted out, "I'm... gonna... come." I pulled him out of my mouth and looked directly at the opening in his glans. That spot on a man's dick never fails to amaze me when it begins to shoot creamy white milkiness. Nick's body shook with pleasure, and his ass bucked back and forth as he came, in almost violent spurts, directly at my face, which was OK in the shower. I lightly stroked him until it slowed down, with only minimal further oozing. I milked him until it stopped, and he looked down at me with such a grin on his face. That grin was worth all the effort.

His semen got in my hair, though, and I said, "Good thing we're in the shower with soap and shampoo." Nick responded with another chuckle, hugged me wetly, then alternated between shampooing my hair, and rubbing fragrant soap on my vulva as I stood up. By now I'm feeling pretty slick down there myself, not to mention really horny, needed some release, and I hoped he'd keep rubbing. I pressed against his hand to encourage him. His middle finger slipped inside and I nearly jumped.

Nick said, "It's only fair for me to return your favor with a little kindness of my own" and dropped down on HIS knees, positioning his face directly in front of the opening to my vagina. He squeezed the flesh of my ass, while exploring with his fingers from behind. He began licking my clitoris, which obliged by popping out from under the hood, as expected. Rose would be so proud! His tongue worked the front, and I whimpered as he alternated licks and flicks across the nub of my clitoris, while inserting a soapy digit in my ass, but not too far. Just enough to titillate and get my attention. OMG, that felt so good! That was a new experience for me.

He continued to lick my clit, then my labia, and delved deep into my vagina as far as his tongue could go, which was pretty damn far. He sucked on my labia, tugging with his lips, not his teeth. The sensation was euphoric, and as he used his middle finger to probe my G-Spot, I felt a new rush and squealed at every jab, with no one to hear me over the sound of the rushing water.

The walls of my vagina started quivering with my oncoming orgasm, and I felt it erupting deep inside trying to burst out from the sensation of Nick's tongue. His movements become more heightened; his tongue explored every inch of me as I reached that orgasm. My vulva convulsed over his mouth, and he felt the shock waves, but didn't stop until they had slowed down. If it wasn't for all the water already in the shower, I'd swear it was my vagina that drenched his face.

Just as I felt it subsiding, Nick stood up, spread my legs apart, and drove his cock in past my pussy lips as far as it would go. He didn't ask, but he didn't need to. While he was sucking on me, he was regaining his erection, and I was so lubricated, there was no resistance, it slipped right in before I had time to react. It was the perfect move! My vagina welcomed it like a big hug. The sensation was intensified with Nick's gentle and loving penetration, his body rubbing and melting into every inch of mine as I began to reach for, but not quite attain, a second orgasmic climax.

Despite feeling quite satisfied, I knew that with Nick's fat cock in me, thrusting in and out, this one would be huge. Mouth orgasms and penetration orgasms are different, but still so similar in many ways. There is subtlety and nuance to the sensations that end with the same thing -- pulsating orgasm -- and I was experiencing all of them.

To add a touch of variety, and just to completely shock him, I clamped down on his dick with the walls of my vagina, using the muscles strengthened from practicing Kegels I learned from exercise videos, making it difficult for him to move his cock in and out. He was at first taken aback, and looked at me oddly, as the sensations were new to him, but he then moaned softly, seeming to enjoy the surprise.

He said, "How'd you do that?" with a mixture of surprise and pleasure. I responded with a soft laugh, my body relaxing as I freed his dick. He breathed a sigh of relief (he probably didn't think a 58-year-old woman had that skill in her) and began thrusting again, with more urgency, the sensation of our impounding climaxes building and building.

I tried to prolong it, but I failed.

Oh well. All good things must come to an end.

Nick's penis was thick enough, and had just enough upward curve, to really stroke my G-spot, occasionally banging up against my cervix, and with each thrust, it caused more and more pleasure as my vagina shook, rattled and rolled attempting one last hyper-orgasm.

But hold on. Nick had one more surprise!

He said, "Turn around," pulled out, and as I did, with the shower water still rolling over my back, he shoved his dick back in my vagina from the rear, never losing the rhythm. He was a fucking machine!

I was completely astounded that Nick - mild-mannered, inefficient businessman - was capable of such sexual antics, edging me towards climax, letting me back down a notch, then pushing me higher with every stroke of his penis, but as he continued to thrust, it was obvious what he was doing, and I felt an eruption building over and over until I screamed for him to not stop. He didn't. I came.

God, I came, with pulses over my entire body that seemed to never stop.

And he was still going at it!

It was time for him to come once more, I could tell, and I decided I didn't need any semen inside me, so I pulled away, turned and got back down on my knees to take Nick's cock in my mouth again and direct his orgasm. Wow! Just as I did so, he shoots! He scores! Although the volume was diminished, I still pointed his dick towards the drain since I had already washed my hair. Too much soap can ruin a girl's style.