I had just turned 27 when I met Sara. She was in her mid-50s at the time.
I was moving up 95 from DC to Baltimore for my first "real" job and needed a place to stay. One of my aunt's friends said she knew a woman that wanted to rent a room, so I went to check it out.
It was actually more than just a room; it was the entire ground level of a renovated three-story walkup in the Harlem Park area. It had a separate entrance, a parking spot in the back and the rent was cheap - so I took it that day.
Sara was "interesting"... I'd met her kind before. She was an old-school type of sista: southern-raised, lady-like, flirty. She rarely used my name, instead calling me "sweetie", "suga" or "baby".
She reminded me of the actress that played the mom on "Family Matters".
In her living room, she had several pictures of herself when she was younger - very hot! She still had it going on when we met; a few extra pounds in the right places, but I remember thinking that I would definitely "hit that".
I didn't realize that she was thinking the same about me.
I moved in the following week and started my new life in B'More.
I saw Sara every morning as I left for work. She was always sitting at the kitchen window sipping coffee as I went to my car; she was usually wearing only her nightie or a short robe. I pretended not to notice at first, but by the third or fourth day, she smiled and waved - so I had to acknowledge that I noticed.
A month in she called me on the phone that Saturday morning and invited me to come up for breakfast. I went up and we had bacon, eggs and coffee at the small table where she always sat in the morning.
She was barefoot and wearing a black, silky robe that stopped mid-thigh (I later found out she owned several of the same robe in different colors). She had a heart-shaped tattoo above her left breast. Her shoulder-length hair was pulled into a tight bun; she wore no make-up and I could smell the slight hint of a musky-oil. I could see the outline of her nipples against the robe. Sara was definitely hot!
My jeans got tight, so I tried not to stare. I wasn't trying to mess things up.
We talked about lots of different things: my job, some people we knew in common, football, family. She was divorced and retired, had no kids, and owned this house and two others that she rented for income.
We ended up hanging out all that day, and then again the next day. This became a routine for us on the weekends. It was hard not to think about what it would be like to fuck Sara; her mannerisms and the way she would dress around me did NOT help.
It finally happened a month after that first time we hung out.
One Saturday she called me to come up for breakfast or lunch like she always did. We ate, talked, joked, flirted, had a few beers and watched TV. Usually this lasted until late afternoon, unless one of us had something else to do.
"You got plans for the rest of the day?" she asked. Sara was wearing her pale-blue robe, which was untied, black flip-flops, black knee-length yoga pants and a grey tank top.
"Nope." I lied; I was supposed to meet some co-workers for drinks, but wanted to see what Sara had in mind.
Sara smiled and said nothing else. We watched college football and settled in at opposite ends of her couch.
At half time, she asked if I wanted another beer. When she got up to go to the kitchen, she left behind her robe and the flip-flops. The display of cleavage and protruding nipples made my cock twitch in the sweats I was wearing. It wasn't easy trying to hide the obvious bulge.
She came back with the beers and passed one to me. She sat on the coffee table directly in front of me, staring into my eyes and taking long swigs of beer. I took a drink and stared back.
"Here we go...!" I thought to myself.
I put my beer down and she did the same. I leaned forward and kissed her. For several minutes, only our mouths and tongues touched. I rolled down to my knees in front of Sara and spread her legs, pulling her to me. She placed her hands to her sides, gripping the table, while I allowed mines to explore her body.
I ran my hand through her hair, took a firm grip and gently tugged her head back, planting kisses under her chin and down her neck. I stopped and licked the heart tattoo. Sara moaned.
I leaned back and marveled at her nipples standing at attention under the tank top. I placed a hand under each of her tits (which were heavier than I thought they'd be), and using only the tips of my thumbs, circled and teased her nipples.
"Mmmmm...baby!" Sara moaned, "I love havin' my nipples played with..."
