I have still never seen a woman to compare to her. She was like an African Joan Collins, Diana Ross if she had curves. A diva, for sure but get her naked and feel the silky, smooth texture of that taut skin around her natural curves on her petite form and I doubt that any man could deny her anything she wanted. If you use porn videos to get yourself off, check out "Gambian vs Mali" on your site of choice and that girl is the double of her.
It had been a boring week, turning up each day at Yeoman House to work in the regional sales office. This weekend had already been the best in my young life. Just 20 years old, first time in Le BeatRoute up in Soho and I had the pluck to chat up the older woman. It shouldn't have worked. I was a callow, pauper-poor youth and everything about her screamed sophistication but somehow at the end of that evening, she, her minder, my mate and an unknown, elderly raving homosexual were sharing a taxi back via her place to our abodes in various South London suburbs. I'd given her my phone number - landline, no such thing as mobiles in those days, but I expected her not to call. After a lazy Sunday in my shared rented house in Sutton, empty because all my housemates were back in their hometowns, I was thinking about getting some dinner, watching something on TV and having an early night. Then, the phone rang. She told me to get myself to Norbury station where she'd meet me. She took me around a few of her favourite local pubs, must have told me a lot about herself and consumed several brandies & Babycham. We got some food and she verbally abused the female police constables and asked if I wanted to go to a club.
"Anything you want." I was just fixated now on the goal ie. getting her back to her place, undressing her and seeing what developed. I was still relatively new to casual sex.
The club turned out to be a gay club. They had several cabaret interludes and she knew some of the performing drag queens. We chatted with them in and out of costume and one of them told me how Saturday nights in this place actually offered some of the best opportunities to pull straight birds anywhere in London. The totty flocked there, probably out of curiosity but it was wall to wall apparently. Anyway, no need for that for me tonight, I had this hot little mama and I wasn't going to let go.
Then, finally, we got to go to her place. A lady with her own place, how sophisticated. All my girlfriends had either lived with their parents or been in student digs like me. She invited me in and gave me a quick tour of the ground floor flat. She led me to the bedroom and this was what I'd been waiting for all night. Out of her high heels she was short, much shorter than I am and as I unclasped her bra, her large, round, soft tits fell out. I had to suck on those nipples, so I did. I cupped each one and continued to nuzzle. She urged me to continue undressing her. Her skirt slid easily down her short legs and I appreciated how slender she was down there. Chunky thighs and a bubble butt but all within her waist measurement, not at all pear-shaped like some of the girls I'd happily fucked before. She was more submissive than I'd anticipated, given her fiery demeanour in the outside world. I pushed her back onto the bed and started to explore her body. I wasn't experienced in cunnilingus but I gave it a go but it wasn't long before she was urging me to put it inside her. Reflecting on our time together now, I regret that she never gave me oral. I wasn't much of a fan of getting sucked off back then but now it's probably the ultimate pleasure a partner can bestow on me. I came so easily into her and we embraced and slept. It must have been something about the proximity to her, our smell, the peaceful atmosphere in her ground floor retreat from the busy South London suburb but every hour or two I would awake and we would repeat the delicious entertainment that only a man and woman can enjoy.
During the following week, I naturally had flashbacks to that weekend, that night. I recalled things that Zara had said to me. She had had a Dutch boyfriend, who would do everything. "Everything? I gave you all I had." I thought and meant it. I had fucked her in positions that none of my previous girlfriends had wanted to try. I had licked her... french-kissed her cunt even. If anything it was her that had held back - "what's your aversion to my cock that you want it buried inside you instead of worshipping it with your lips?" I thought. Ah, I couldn't feel bitter, if I never saw her again I'd have had those 5 amazing fucks with an absolutely stunning older woman way out of my league. At times, I'd wonder what she had been up to exposing me to those homosexuals before I'd even fucked her? She seemed to be trying to set me up with one of them. Oh, well, dodged a bullet there.
Thursday evening, one of the nurses that I lived with in our rented house in Sutton called me to the phone. Zara asked me how I was and if I had anything on tomorrow evening, Friday. I didn't and if I had I'd have kicked it into touch for a chance of going a few more rounds with this minx. She told me to get myself to Streatham Common station this time and she'd meet me there. Did she say "we'll meet you there"? I left work early to get back to Sutton in time to get a bath and change for a night out in Streatham. Stepping out of the station and seeing her, my heart sank. She looked stunning, of course but she was with a bloke!
We popped into a pub and I accepted a pint off the bloke, Chris or something. Zara told me that we were going for a meal but that I needn't worry as Chris was going to pay. Over dinner he told me that he worked for a record company, a very well known one and was friends with the flamboyant entrepreneur owner. I should've found it very interesting and maybe even a rare opportunity as I was a guitarist and songwriter myself but all I could think was
"How do we get rid of this loser so we can fuck again?"
He stuck around after dinner as we visited another pub on our way back to Zara's place. Once there, she invited him in and fixed us drinks. She disappeared at some point and reappeared minutes later wearing a towel. She danced provocatively and let the towel fall. I took it as a signal for me and got up and danced along side her. My prick was fully erect but hampered by my Y-fronts and trousers. Zara obliged, unfastening my belt and trousers and led me by the cock to her bedroom. The loser followed.
"What's he doing? I want you to myself."
"I know you do but I need you both. He does what you won't."
"I'm not sharing your pussy with another man." I said.
"OK!" she whimpered.
