A Day At The Beach 44

First of all, I am NOT a predatory older woman who hunts, stalks, lusts after, and imposes her attentions upon some innocent, inexperienced young female.

I saw her lying on the beach nursing her child of about two. The little girl wore only a headscarf. The mom wore a bright pink bikini, the top of which was pulled down slightly to accommodate the sucking. She made no concession to getting her share of the sunshine, lying there, her lovely arms stretched out, her lovely golden hair spilling over the reflective pillow upon which she rested her head.

Spreading my towel, I situated myself nearby. I pulled off the skirt portion of my beachwear, used some lotion, and spread myself out. I admit that I continued to watch the glorious blonde out of the corner of my eye. Finally the teeny-weenie was satiated, and mom pulled up her top. She noticed me peeking, and I smiled… She smiled back. I desperately searched for an excuse to say something. “Gotta go to the ladies room… Could you watch my stuff?”

She nodded and smiled an acknowledgement.

I said “Thanks!” upon my return. She replied, “No problem. I know what a bother it is to be alone and try to look after things.”

“You’re here alone?”

“Yes. I rented that cottage over there for a couple of weeks of carefree summer fun,” she smiled. I didn’t ask about why someone like her would ever be alone, though the question certainly arose in my thoughts, and I simply concluded that that was the way she wanted it.

“I enjoyed watching you feed you daughter,“ I said smiling. I didn’t tell her that it also made me horny as hell. My bikini bottoms were soaked through (fortunately they were black), and my boobies were hot with my nipples hard as rocks. She didn’t seem in the least nonplussed by my remark, and a little tingle spread through the center of my groin as I discovered how friendly toward another lonely woman she seemed to be.

“Why don’t you come up to the house for a cold drink?” she asked as she stood, carrying her daughter whose arms wrapped around her neck. I accepted her invitation with enthusiasm as I helped her gather up her things, noting that the sand looked like a sugar coating on her golden hind. Smiling, I brushed it off with her towel. “What’s your name, hun?” …the obvious question.

“Michele… friends call me ‘Chele.”

As we walked up to the house, I noticed her car, a little red convertible, a car that seemed to suit her perfectly. The cottage itself was extremely casual, as one would expect, lots of rough wood and bright country furniture. There were really only two rooms: the main room with a bar-like kitchen and a pot-bellied stove for any heat that proved necessary, and a bedroom. She put the little girl, already asleep, down for a nap.

‘Chele grabbed herself a cold seltzer. Confronted by a full bar and plenty of juices, I opted for a Planter’s Punch, which I mixed myself. After the hot sun, the cold juicy rum drink went down fast. :=P

The décor of the house, though temporary, clued me in to a sensual temperament. It all screamed openness and assertiveness as opposed to the excessive modesty and self-consciousness one often sees in a woman’s home. By this time we were feeling relaxed with each other and were seated knee to knee on her somewhat over-sized sofa.

Emboldened by the rum, I complimented her on her gorgeous body and breasts. She quickly removed her bikini top. There were her two large beautiful breasts, with both her nipples sticking way out and oozing milk. We both giggled and looked at each other, and it was as though each of us could read the other’s mind. She asked if it would be OK if she touched my breasts to see how they felt. I caught my breath, but said yes, I guess so. She slowly took both my breasts in her hands and gently squeezed them and started massaging them.

Even though great minds think alike, I’m not sure she completely understood what I meant when I then said, “May I, please?” I think it really surprised her when I took one of her nipples in my mouth and started sucking on it. Ooh, it tasted so good. I sucked hard and got a lot of breast in my mouth with the nipple. I massaged her other breast and nipple while she nursed me. The milk was sweet and tasted like - pineapple? It was hind milk, richer than the foremilk, and I sort of felt bad her daughter had not gotten it. She closed her eyes and moaned a little as I suckled. Then I moved on to the other breast. I believe I drained her completely.

She had been massaging my tits all along. They were superheated, and my nipples had hardened. She shyly asked if she could suck me. Why “shyly” I don’t know, given what we had been doing, but I don’t think either of us had had much sexual contact with other women, so I think we were both a bit hesitant at what to do next. She slowly lowered her head toward me on the couch. I put my hands behind her head and slowly pulled her face down to my breasts. She slowly kissed my nipples and licked each of them, sucking gently. She rubbed against them and I could feel her cheeks, chin, nose, and tongue.

We kissed. Our lips pushed and nibbled, our tongues toying between parted lips, but when I pushed aside her thong and slid my finger inside her, she plunged her tongue deeply into my mouth. I stroked the downy curls between her legs and slipped my fingers further into her wetness. With a quick and shallow breath, she parted her legs further. I crossed my fingers inside of her, my thumb rubbing across her clit, stroking her rhythmically. Gently and thoughtfully, but greedily.

‘Chele began to make the most exquisite sounds imaginable, sounds I’d never heard that no actress could ever hope to duplicate. She moaned, first in surprise, then in helpless surrender, as my fingers slid in and out of her and my thumb crossed her clit. I pulled out my fingers and held them up for her to lick as is licked them myself, our tongues lapping, our mouths sucking.

Working my way along her body, I circled her nipples with my wet tongue before continuing down. I played with her navel with my fingers and tongue, and I could see that the touch sent tingles to all the right places in ’Chele’s body. When my tongue touched her inner thigh, a shudder of desire shook her. She seemed to have expected something quicker and rougher, but I was taking her on a journey of my own creation -- a long, secret journey, exploring hidden places in new a different ways. She hadn't anticipated such exotic and lengthy pleasures.

It struck me that this was a wild, intimate adventure of a type she had probably heard about but never really experienced before. I was determined to make her experience one she’d never forget.

She grabbed handfuls of my hair and ears pressing my face into her cunt and moaning, “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” Well, I had no intention of stopping. As I licked her passion-wetted flower and its little pistil I continued moving my fingers inside her and began to massage her perineum. There was plenty of love juice to make it slick, and I immediately detected an increase in her sexual tension. “Oooooooooooooh…” she exclaimed. “That feels… incredible!!!”

I could barely resist touching and probing the little rosebud further along, but she didn’t ask for it, and I didn’t want to put her off her ecstatic mood with a surprise she wouldn’t necessarily accept. I told myself I should save something for a possible future encounter. Thinking back, I can’t believe I was being so reflective and considerate. I was as mindlessly ecstatic as she, and on the verge of my own special kind of climax, watching this wonderful creature enjoy herself so.

For a while we positioned ourselves scissor fashion, our pussies rubbing, mixing our love juices as we watched each other’s faces radiate pleasure and joy. "Oh, my God," I muttered hoarsely giving her an open mouthed invitation that she took. With every movement I worked back down her body. Every shift of position gave a breathtaking hint of mindless ecstasy that seemed to grow with each second. She shuddered and clutched my shoulders for strength, losing herself with each lick and tickle of my tongue.

There wasn't an inch of her that I didn't taste -- from the base of her throat to the curve of her waist to the backs of her knees to her crimson toenails. And as I indulged in the wet petals of her womanhood, she tangled her fingers in my hair and arched her hips as ripples of ecstasy shook her body. I felt each spasm as though it were my own.

"Oh God…" she groaned over and over as the lightning bolts of ecstasy shot through her. And as we clung together in the midst of spiraling fireworks, I found words welling up from inside -- words I didn't know had been lying in wait, and words I couldn’t easily say. "I love you, hunny. I love you."

I worshipped her mouth, her cunt, and every part of her body until she wept with joy. Her arousal gushed like a tidal wave, a moving wall of incredible pleasure that swept us both out into an ocean of ecstasy. Ripples of release flooded through her, changing her, making her, I felt, mine.

She began to heave and writhe, flesh against flesh, mouth to flower petals. Each movement brought a corresponding reply when suddenly she reached down to me, pulled me against her, and began gyrating and grinding herself into me. "Yes . . . yes . . . oh . . . Oh . . . " came out as she heaved and convulsed into a series of explosive climaxes. The sensual waves continued as she was convulsed by great shudders that radiated the throbbing heat within.

We could not resist the violent passion, our wriggling, sighs, our intertwined legs pulling us ever deeper.

As our bodies moved together I was shaken to my very soul at the intensity of the feelings that moved me -- feelings that were by turns primal and selfish, gentle and yearning. I held on until I felt the last few gentler tremors shake her body. Then I rose and buried my face in the soft and fragrant cloud of her hair. Dazed and motionless, we lay there finding ourselves, our old selves that had never before experienced such wonders.

We both knew that our real lives could in no way accommodate this being routine or permanent. But we also knew that we would again find a way to repeat the new joy that we had found. Our situation was not impossible, but our trysts are definitely going to be catch as catch can and less frequent than we would like. But just the thought of her makes my whole body tingle. I have a wonderful, indelible memory… and something to look forward to as well.

Obviously if I WERE a predatory older woman who hunts, stalks, lusts after and imposes her attentions upon innocent, inexperienced young females, I would have long since been devoured by my prey.