Madonna

Chapter Three

"Will I ever meet her?" Bonnie asked, obviously excited after I told her how things had gone with Madonna.

"Bride-o-mine," I said, "she's not within light-years of being ready for that, but when she is you'll be the first to know."

"Stingy," she said, but she was giggling as she came around the table, opening her robe as she did, "I hope you saved some for me."

I had, of course. We made love, well, we had wild sweaty monkey sex. There's a difference you know.

The next morning I was back at it, up to my ass in lawnmowers and chain saws and that particular year, generators. Two mechanics were at it and I was constantly on the phone, the computer setting up a parts order and filling out warranty claims, or helping customers, disappointing them with my estimated time of getting to their mower or blower.

I called "lunch," hooked up the trailer, and headed for my own lunch and to make a half dozen pickups.

When I got to her place and pulled into the driveway I walked up to the door like I owned the place. As I walked up to her back door, the one facing the driveway, the door opened, and there she was, not hiding behind the door, standing, proudly I thought, without a stitch on.

And she was grinning. I liked that she had done her hair and her makeup and had obviously been working with that razor. She was smooth as a grape.

So I kissed her in the doorway, my hands running up and down her back, cupping her small ass, and she kissed me back, her arms around my neck. It was a good kiss.

Now, that's not quite as exhibitionist as it sounds. She lived in the county, on a big lot, and the nearest house was easily a quarter-mile away. But if anyone had driven by on her road they would have gotten an eyeful.

Lunch that day was bologna and cheese, chips, pickle spear, and ice tea. She had a half sandwich with me this time.

When we finished I leaned across the table, covered her hands in mine, and said, "Well, have you decided what you want?"

She blushed very prettily and said, "I've been practicing saying it."

I flashed The Grin and said, "and."

She stood and moved around the table to stand close to me, brushed my lips with her fingertips, and said, "I want your mouth."

I leaned forward and started kissing the bottoms of her boobs where they sagged so sexily, flicking my tongue out, sucking her long, thin nipples, looking up at her across the roundness of her breast.

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm," she hummed, "I want your mouth down there," she said.

I pulled off of her nipple, met her eyes, and said, "down there?"

"Oh God," she sort of moaned.

I smiled and said, "say the words, Madonna."

She moaned again, took a deep breath, and said, very calmly, holding my eyes with hers, "I want you to use your mouth on my pussy."

I flashed The Grin and said, "There, that wasn't so hard now, was it."

So I kissed her, a quick kiss, and got to my knees. That line from the Bruce Springsteen song was playing in my head - "Now let me tell you stud, your life's been wasted, 'til you got down on your knees and tasted a red-headed woman."

She had an interesting pussy. She was one of those women who had pretty much lost every fat cell after menopause. She had that little bit of a potbelly, no hips, skinny legs. But her labia, those outer lips marking the entrance to her, were very full, almost puffy. A little tuft of that coarse black hair she had missed peeked out from under her clitoral hood. As I bent forward, kissing very gently, her womanscent was delicate, must less powerful than my wife's. It was an interesting pussy. A good pussy. And I was happy to kiss it, gently at first, and then more firmly.

My hand cupped her small ass, squeezing a little, pulling her toward me, forcing her to grab my shoulders for balance. Her knees were parted now and she was squatting a little, taking the pressure she needed. My tongue found her clitoris that delightful button of pleasure, and began flicking it, enjoying its hardness and the way her body twitched as I did.

And she came, suddenly and hard, her thick love nectar filling my mouth in a quick gush, salty and tangy and delicious. I deliberately let it fill my mouth and overflow, running down my chin, thick and smelling of her sex. I liked it and deliberately rubbed my face in her full slick nether lips.

The muscles of her little ass were so tight they were hard and I cupped them, supporting her as her climax ran its course.

She tired quickly, though, and was soon spent, leaning on me heavily as she gasped, getting her breathing under control. I laid my cheek against her belly, holding her to me, supporting her as she recovered.

Finally, she straightened and took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Thank you, David, thank you," she said between deep breaths, "God, I never had anything like that."

"Do I please you?" I asked, still on my knees, looking up at her, meeting her eyes.

"Oh God," she said, her voice shaky, "yesssssssssssssssssssss. I never IMAGINED anything like this."

I bent and kissed her between the legs, a nice lingering kiss, before I stood and said, "now I need to wash my face before I get back to work."

She giggled and leaned forward and licked my face, surprising me.

"Oooooh," she said, "I taste funny."

I laughed and stood, helping her stand with me.

"Think of what you want tomorrow," I said, then kissed her quickly and turned to the sink to wash my face.

"But what about you," she asked, looking kind of disappointed, "now?"

"I'm good," I said, patting her skinny ass.

I kissed her again and headed back to work.

At home, I told my wife about it, of course.

"Well," she said, as we were finishing up the dishes, me washing and her putting away, "I want some of that."

I grinned and handed her the last plate. When she had it stacked and turned I was on my knees, reaching for the hem of her housedress.

She got her blowjob right there in the kitchen. My head was under her housedress, my hands on the softness of her slightly oversize ass.

Bonnie is one of those women who is generously endowed with pubic hair and it is full and thick. We shaved her once, well, she allowed me to shave her, but it was a disaster. Oh, I liked the look that first night, but when she got a rash that lasted for almost a month, well, that was the last time.

But she does enjoy it when I'm on my knees before her. And I enjoy it too. So I gave her what she wanted, there on the kitchen floor, her hips first rocking gently and then bucking as I took her along, tasting her, then drinking her pleasure, then bending my neck to let her sweet honey soak my hair.

"Mmmmmmmmmm, I do love a man who knows his natural position is on his knees," she said, stroking my slick hair.

"And I love a woman who knows what she wants," I said, smiling up at her.

She grinned and said, "stand up, baby, my turn."

So I stood and she got to her knees before me and started on my belt and then the button and zipper of my jeans. She pulled my pants down just past my hips, just enough to free my cock, and took me in her mouth.

Bonnie is an artist with her mouth and tongue. She made it last, bringing me along slowly. Knowing my tells and stopping just as I approached but didn't quite cross that point-of-no-return, taking me past where I would normally have finished.

She was an odd combination of gentle and demanding, taking me beyond climax.

When she finally finished me she pulled off, accepting the facial and hair conditioner. A thick line of semen ran from her forehead where a thick glob formed at the hairline, across her nose and chin. She was at her most beautiful and feminine right then.

We went to bed then, both with a fresh facial and hair conditioner.