I am a 55 year old happily married woman. I feel that I have had a very normal life, had two children, have kept myself in nice shape and always try to look my best. I have been involved in many of the usual family and community activities and am presently in a very active book club. One day, a new man came into our group. I didn't think much of it, although we are mostly women, a few man have occasionally joined our group. We read and have lively discussions about current and other interesting books. The new man was in his 40s, a college professor, nice looking and very friendly. We initially met, but over the next few weeks, I never had any personal discussions with him. I did notice that he was enjoying the company of many of the other women however and it made me wonder a bit if I was missing something.
One day, when I was at a local book store, we happened to run into each other. Right from the beginning, he seemed very friendly as if we had been close friends before. We talked about books as we walked through the store looking in different aisles. I didn't pay much attention at first, but I remembered later, that as we walked around, his hand touched me several times. I also recalled that his slight touches seemed to cause a reaction in my body. He invited me for a cup of coffee at the shop next door and I accepted. Over a cup, we discussed books and other things. He seemed to have me talking more about myself than he said about himself but I didn't mind. I was feeling good about myself and happy that he seemed interested in me. One thing led to another and he said he had a collection of books that I might be interested in and would I like to see them. He seemed interesting and the idea didn't seem too out of the ordinary at the time and I so I said I would be glad to.
I had the feeling that I shouldn't but I followed him to his apartment near the college anyway. He had a very nice and neat place, much cleaner than I would have expected from a man. He showed me his bookshelves full of current and classical books. Looking at the titles, I was very impressed and feeling a bit special that he had invited me to see them. As we talked and looked at his collection, he offered to loan me any that I might like. We sat on the sofa and he offered me a drink of wine. As I held the drink and leafed through a book, he sat near me with his hand resting on my leg. I was half absorbed by the book and half by the touch of his hand. I felt a twinge through my body saying I should leave but somehow, I liked the feeling I was getting and didn't try to discourage him. As we talked, his hand slowly moved up and down over the leg of my slacks, I couldn't stop him.
When he brought a second glass of wine, his mood started to change. Looking at me he said he thought I was trying to tease him. By the way I looked at him, the way I was dressed and by my talk, I was causing him to feel excited. I was flabbergasted, He pointed to a bulge in his pants and indicated that I had done that to him. I was speechless and didn't know how to reply. I started to get up, he pushed me down and sat next to me. He said he "knew" why I was here and that I was taking advantage of his hospitality. Putting my hand on his crotch, he implied that his erection was my fault and that I needed to do something about it. He squeezed my hand over his bulge, I could feel a growing excretion. He kept talking, telling me that he was attracted to me, that he knew I was attracted to him, that he knew my needs and that he was there to help. I tired but couldn't remove my hand, but he kept insisting that it was what I wanted and needed. Inside my feelings were racing, it didn't feel right to be here but feeling his cock move in his pants was sending little electric shocks through my body. Before I knew it, he undid his zipper, he had no underwear and so my hand was now touching his bare cock. I barely heard his words as I stared at the cock I was holding. I was transfixed, it was bigger than my husband's and it wasn't even fully hard. He was coaxing me to squeeze it, feel it, and when he removed his hand, I couldn't let go. Something at that moment made me unable to do anything but to continue stroking his cock and feel it grow. It was as if it was talking to be, drawing me to honor it. I felt his hand push my head down and put my face closer to his beckoning penis. At first I gave it a small lick, a taste of fluid on my tongue seemed to make me want more. I put the head of his cock in my mouth, flashes of old memories went through my mind. How many cocks have I seen and tasted? How long had it been since I had a cock in my mouth? I knew hadn't sucked my husband's for a very long time, this seemed like a new and exciting adventure.
