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Part 1: Hot Archaeology
Kurt walked up to the bar and ordered his usual vodka and soda with a lime. He needed a drink. His luck with relationships hadn't been so good lately, and the fiasco with this last cheating girlfriend nearly killed him. It was time to get back out and forget about it. Dating and relationships aside, Kurt still knew how to get pussy, and that was probably the best medicine for him at this point. He was a fit, handsome square-jawed guy in his late twenties. He never had problems getting women, he just had problems carving out meaningful relationships with them.
There were droves of beautiful women in this beachfront Florida town. In fact, they seemed to be everywhere. Something about beachfront condos and burying their toes in soft white sand brought them to this place like a holy pilgrimage. If Kurt couldn't get pussy here, with a hot real estate agent and heavy problem drinker, he would need to have his dick surgically removed and donated to someone more deserving.
The sandy beach air had dried his contacts and he'd taken them out. Nonetheless, he scanned the room sipping his drink. He hadn't been sitting very long when the door to the pool deck slid open. Walking in from the pool and making her way to the bar was an absolute vixen. She had long blond hair. She wore a white see-through ruffle gown flowing down to her feet. Underneath the gown, all that covered her was a skimpy bikini, and the spaghetti straps of the top were being strained to their limit by two juicy, bulging bimbo tits.
'Fucking WOW.' Kurt thought to himself. His pulse picked up as she took a seat across from him at the bar. He couldn't believe he'd only been there a few minutes before the platinum package walked in.
'Welp. No point in sitting around. Time to get to work.' He coached himself through internal dialogue. He got up out of his seat and walked to her. As he approached, his mind worked on what to say to her. As he got closer. His near-sightedness was sharpening, and he was getting a clearer image of this woman.
As he rounded the corner of the bar he saw her more clearly and nearly stopped.
'Wait, what the fuck?' he thought to himself. She was old. Old enough to be his mother. Despite that banging body, she had the telltale signs of age around her lips and the corners of her eyes. Those delicate lines in her neck that creased when she lowered her head. She must have been mid-to-late fifties in age.
'Abort abort abort!' He thought to himself. He wasn't out tonight to get... grandmussy. He imagined it probably tasted like Werther's Original. He diverted his path and went to walk around her. But before he could get past her, he took another look. On second glance, she really was quite beautiful. She crossed her legs gracefully and she was wearing these sexy bohemian flat sandals. Her nails were perfect. Enticing jewelry dripped off her delicate wrists and around her neck. Long gold earrings dangled from her ears. He hesitated again.
Of course, during all this internal deliberation she had completely busted him checking her out, and couldn't help but notice he was frozen like a prairie dog. She turned to him smiling and said sweetly;
"Well hello. Would you like to sit down?"
"Yes ma'am." He said without thinking. Oops. He froze again when he realized what he'd done.
She smiled warmly and said "Don't worry, I forgive you... But don't do it again." And she slid a stool over, inviting him to sit.
He took a seat, surprisingly nervous. Now that he was right next to her, his near-sighted eyes could really take her in. She was graceful. Although she'd clearly had some work done, there was natural beauty all over. Her juicy wrap-around-your-cock lips were lovely, and looked like they felt amazing. The lines in her face and neck weren't a turn-off at all. They gave her softness and warmth. Any blemish from her age was totally offset by those gorgeous, tight, juicy jugs hanging from her chest. You could've mounted them on a skeleton and they would still look good.
"What's your name?" She asked him.
They introduced themselves. She said her name was Mona.
Now THAT was a hot old lady name. He was expecting something like Beatrice, or Agnes, or maybe Millicent. But Mona, it was a lovely name. He introduced himself and they began to chat. He excitedly ordered her a drink once the bartender was in earshot. What was happening here? Could he really not play it any cooler than this? The Korean War Vets at Bingo Night probably had smoother game than this. He was acting thirsty. He needed to get a grip.
They talked more and he became even more intrigued by her. He asked what she did for a living. She simply said she was "retired", but she didn't say from what. It turned out she was an artist. She loved to sculpt and paint. Kurt lit up. He loved art, and he was an art minor in college, so he could actually speak to it. He slid his stool closer to get more cozy with her.
She fished her phone out of her purse and went off babbling excitedly, bringing up her favorite art pieces. Kurt did the same on his phone. They were having a blast. Laughing and smiling, sharing their passions. Kurt tried to cook up a comment about what fine taste she had, and then a dirty, flirtatious punchline to follow it, but he couldn't. He was enchanted with her. He adored her.
They enjoyed each other for hours, nearly closing the bar down. When it was time to leave, the bartender dropped the tab off. He reached for it, but she snatched it away before he could get it.
"Please! Let me." It looked like she was into him too. She rummaged in her purse and took out a pair of glasses, then slid them onto her nose to review the tab. Now the age thing was hitting him like a train. She looked like a librarian. She tapped on her phone with her long nails to calculate the tip. Underneath her alluring jewelry, her wrist was wrapped in compression tape. It looked like she'd injured it.
'Hmph. Osteoporosis.' Kurt thought to himself. She must have strained it opening a pickle jar. Those lazy home care nurses are never around when you need them. Even still, this woman was so hot it'd be well worth flicking some cobwebs off to get into her guts.
He had made dozens of these old lady jokes in his head since meeting her, but he was gradually steering away from them. Age aside, he was enthralled with this beautiful, graceful woman. Was he really doing this? He'd never been with an older woman before, but if this unicorn fossil was any indication, he could definitely get into it.
As he watched her scribble on the check with a fancy rhinestone studded pen, he noticed something missing: A rock on her finger. 'No way.' He thought to himself. A woman like this had to be married. Where was the controlling millionaire husband? He looked again and again, but as far as he could tell she was single.
"No rock means cleared-hot for cock." He accidentally muttered under his breath.
"What, darling?" She asked him innocently.
"Nothing! I mean... Thank you for getting that tab. You really didn't have to do that."
"Oh, I was glad to." She blushed. "You've been so wonderful, I've loved this. Also... It's still very early. I'd love to see more of you. Would you come with me to my house and spend the evening with me?"
"Of course." He almost spit the answer out before she was finished.
"Wonderful!" She smiled wide and went to rise from her seat.
Kurt gently took her hand and held the small of her back as she got up. He thought to himself; 'Careful baby. Wouldn't want you to break a hip.'
'Okay.' he chided himself. 'That was the last old lady joke.'
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