The Church Ladies Cunning Club
Simon had to admit, it was pretty much Melissa McDaniel's idea. At the very least she had inspired it. Because up to that point he didn't think of himself as a famous lover. He was no legendary cocksmith with a Johnson that had wowed generations of ladies. Oh, his lovers rarely complained, simply because he took his time and paid attention to what they seemed to like. Read the signals.
Talked
to them. Yes, sometimes, as he put on years, some complained a bit that he spent
too
long in the saddle. Wore out those tender tissues. But it wasn't something that sent them packing.
But as time went on and his pecker became a bit unreliable, he spent more time with his hands. Not forcing it, but tickling a little something here and kissing something else there. It helped that he had a tongue that could really dance.
So it happened that one slow Thursday at the Rusty Scupper, when he had had one more tequila shot than was perhaps efficacious, and the whole crowd (three grumpy old men) had staggered out the door, he had found himself propositioning Melissa, the venerable bartender.
Melissa was not what most folks would call a 'hottie'. She was past middle age, hefty, with a bit of a beer belly, frizzy hair golden out of a bottle, and a mouth like a sailor. Melissa had no regular guy, or gal for that matter, though she had been known to roll both ways. He had not boffed Melissa before, even though he was a regular at the Scupper and he spent a lot of time complementing her best physical asset, her more-than-generous puppies, which were often flowing out of a low-scooped stretch top.
But he was lonely after the long pandemic and this was the second time he had really been out and about. Melissa seemed happy to be back at work full tilt and she had downed a couple of the shots he bought her. He had touched her hand and something had sparked.
He caught her eye.
"Hey, you wouldn't want to...?"
She held his glance, pondering.
"Gotta be pretty quick though, 'cause I gotta get home and feed my cat."
"I'd like to feed your cat."
"Subtle."
"Still."
"What the fuck, c'mon."
She took his hand and headed for the door to the back room.
"Janine, can you put away the last of the glassware and wipe down the bar? I'll lock up, no, what the fuck, just lock up when you're done."
Janine, her assistant, was sweeping and gave Melissa a twisted face. Janine was skinny and plain and wore her dyed black hair in a straight bob. The customers liked her because she could outswear them..
He hadn't been in the back of the place. It was musty, old school. A big mahogany sideboard sat along the back wall. Probably held linens and bar gear. Maybe some special liquor under lock and key.
Melissa undid her belt, unzipped and dropped her jeans to the floor. Pulled her top over her head. Her big mams struggled to be free of a raspberry lacy bra. Her tummy was prettier naked with a deep hollow for her belly button. Serious ass half-covered by matching raspberry shorties. She walked to the sideboard and put one hand on it, ready.
"You want to bend me over this thing and bang me, or what?"
He checked in with his pecker. Despite the lovely open invitation it was not rising to the occasion. He knew he would need warming up before it could do the deed and she was not asking to blow him. Hmmm.
"I'm going to eat you. Whyn't you just hop right up on there?"
"Just like that, huh? Who are you, the big bad wolf?"
"Yup."
"O...kay. Not exactly foreplay."
"I'm thinking of that hungry cat. You don't want her to start clawing up the couch, do you?"
"She does that."
Melissa lifted one substantial ham up on the sideboard, slid back. Gave him the 'come-hither.'
"Here's dinner."
He calmly took off his leather jacket and folded it on the floor in front of her. Took off his glasses and put them carefully beside her.
"Please don't knock those on the floor."
"Oh, I wouldn't do that."
"Oh, you might."
"We'll see."
"Yes we will. May I...?"
He slid his hands around her sides and found the bra clasp.
"There."
The bra dropped loose and her full tits bounced free.
"Hmm, nice, I've wondered about these."
"I know you have."
"Yeah, this is a treat. I wondered about these nips."
He gently cupped her warm flesh and lifted so he could see better.
"I've imagined them pink or brown or purple, and if these circles around your buds were small and tight or nicely spread. I like this a lot, the way the aureolas are darker near the nipple and then that pale tone and then darker as they meet your skin.
He met her eyes. They were getting moist and out of focus. Well. Words could be powerful. He bent forward and she gasped lightly. He could tell she was expecting him to gobble a nipple. But he just planted a warm kiss on her collar bone. A tiny moan. He moved to the base of her neck. He felt a flutter and knew she was feeling it in the basement. He took his time.
One of her hands had found the back of his neck. The other was squeezing her own thick thigh. He let one of his thumbs drift across a nipple. A tiny jolt. This was good. She wasn't playing games. She was just feeling it.
"Ah... oh."
Her hips were beginning to rock.
He planted a kiss behind her ear and kissed his way downward. The hand on the back of his neck
wanted.
On the right breast. Kissing
around
that swollen pink circle with the tight bead at its center. Kisses. A small bite.
She squealed.
"Little pig, little pig, let me come in."
"Oh yes please," she gasped.
His hot mouth found her nipple and she groaned, pulling his head tight to her chest. Her ample thighs pressed hard against the outside of his legs.
Her hand fumbled at the front of his pants, but curiously, his cock was still taking its time. This here was too much fun. He let his tongue do a job on her right nipple, sucked it in deep. Gave it a playful bite, then moved to the left.
She cried out now and her hand found her thick mound, digging into the raspberry satin, getting it damp. Her other hand was clenched to his neck. In a bit of a reverie, as he sucked hard on that tightening nipple, he realized that with other gals he had discovered that one breast was the 'trigger nipple.'
Touch that
one and you really got the juices flowing.
Her breath was sharp now and her hand was pressing his head toward its target.
He dropped to his knees.