Jennifer sat at the dining table with Jane, her granddaughter. They were skinning blanched almonds for home-made marzipan. Her daughter Jackie was in the kitchen baking a wedding cake for Jane's brother Greg and his fiancé.
Jennifer was restless. She had to admit that her life was pretty good. She'd never married and, despite having a family, had made a very successful career as a graphic designer.
Her last long-term relationship had lapsed five years before. Mostly because neither she nor her partner could really be bothered anymore. She didn't regret being single again but she sure did miss the sex. Sitting next to Jane wasn't helping. Five foot four, a curvy size 8, the nineteen year-old just oozed sexuality. The only thing that Jennifer would change was Jane's very short and spiky blond hair.
"So Jane, are you dating these days?"
"Gran! Why are you so keen to marry me off! You never married and I don't intend to either!"
"You just seem so..." She trailed off.
"What! Sad? Lonely?"
"Hey love! No. Not at all! Just the opposite. You're just so..."
"Hmmm?"
"...attractive." She sighed. "I'm surprised you don't have to beat them off with a stick!"
"What if I don't want to! Doesn't mean I have to have a boyfriend."
"No, of course not. You can do whatever you want."
Jane lowered her voice. "Doesn't mean I can't have fun... I can get all the sex I want."
Jennifer was amused rather than shocked. She smiled at Jane. "Course you can love. And why shouldn't you -- I did."
"Gran!"
"Just be careful. My mother was very young when had me."
"There's no need to worry Gran -- I'm well sorted on that front." She couldn't resist adding "Have been for years."
Back home in her flat Jennifer stripped off her clothes and headed straight for the shower. As she soaped herself she longed for another pair of hands on her body. She was lonely and horny but still shuddered at the thought of another man sharing her living space. She should take a leaf out of Jane's book -- but how do you get hooked up as a 60+ woman. The memory of her short experience with online dating made her shudder. No, not that way.
She watched a movie on her HDD recorder and went to bed feeling no better. Even a long session with her favourite toy left her yearning for some proper passionate sex.
A few weeks later she was channel hopping on Freeview and caught the last ten minutes of a fly-on-the-wall documentary on male escorts ("and the women who use them").
Days later she still had the image in her head of a slim older woman, with her face in shadows, talking very fondly of a young stud she'd just spent an hour with. Jennifer fetched her laptop and searched for 'male escorts'. She lost herself for an hour or so browsing the beef-cake.
That night she lay in bed and wanked to the mental image of some of the profiles she'd been studying. Even though self-administered it was still the best night she'd had in a while.
The following evening she did some more-directed research and decided to take the plunge and hire an escort for an hotel 'outcall' (she was learning a whole new vocabulary). She picked the second-best hotel in the nearest big town. Well -- big enough to be reasonably anonymous.
Three days later she was sitting nervously in the hotel bar drinking grapefruit and bitter-lemon and wishing it was vodka. She'd got there early to check-in and spent all the extra time that she'd allowed fretting about all the things that could go horribly, spectacularly wrong. She'd changed into a short, tight fitting cocktail dress in electric blue viscose.
When 'James' arrived he looked good. A bit shorter than she was expecting but well turned-out. He noticed her immediately, cocked his head and when she nodded slightly he strolled over and introduced himself.
He was very suave and self-assured but he didn't really capture her attention. She realised that there would be no meeting of minds that evening. She just hoped his tackle was up to snuff.
The deal was quickly agreed and she gave him her room number. She left first and had just got herself settled and reasonably calm when she heard the discrete knock. She let him in and handed him an envelope with the cash.
Remembering her fantasy, she wanted to shower with him first and feel his soapy hands caressing her breasts. But that, it seems, was not one of his 'likes'. She undressed self-consciously while she watched him strip. He really was quite beautiful and his equipment did not disappoint.
He took a condom from his Jacket pocket and laid it on the corner of the bed. He laid a tube of expensive lube beside it.
"So. How do you want it?"
"Er, I don't know really."
"Well, what's your favourite position."
"Um -- I like them all really. Er, doggy maybe?"
"Right-oh. So shall we get on the bed?"
She slid sideways onto the bed and lay awkwardly on her back with her legs crossed at the ankles and her knees slightly bent. Her thighs were pressed tightly together. She resisted the urge to cover her breasts.
James walked to the foot of the bed and bent over her. He took her ankles and pulled sideways. "Open up Jen or we'll not get anywhere."
She allowed him to open her legs. He laid across the bottom of the mattress and lowered his face towards her crutch. He sniffed at her pussy and then started to lick the outside of her lips. He set to work with his tongue.
Jennifer felt mortified. He sounded like a pig at a trough. He did occasionally hit her clit but, she supposed, mostly by luck. It was at least getting her wet. Horribly wet in fact, she could feel his spit running down her bum-crease.
After what seemed an age he lifted his head and scrutinised his handiwork. Finding everything to his satisfaction, he knelt up on the bed between her legs. He wiped the moisture off his face with his hand and wiped it on the counterpane.
"You ready Jen?"
She nodded -- not that she was, she just wanted to get it over and get him out of the room. He tore open the condom packet and covered his penis. Then he covered the rubber with a thick coating of lube.
"Hands and knees then -- and I'll do you from behind."
That sounded like a good idea to Jennifer. At least she wouldn't have to watch him! She rolled onto her side and assumed the required position.
He placed a hand on the base of her spine and she felt his slippery cock prodding around at her rear. More by luck than judgement he hit the spot and the head of his cock penetrated her. Even given the circumstances and her deep embarrassment it felt good.
He held her hips and worked his tool in and out until he was fully inside her.
He started to thrust into her steadily. She felt confused. His casual attitude and complete lack of empathy was a big turn-off. But his cock was big and hard and fucking her cunt. It had been a long time since she'd had a man inside her and it did feel good. She realised that if she mostly ignored him and concentrated on the feelings in her cunt (and assuming he could keep going for long enough) then she could probably get off.
She tightened her muscles around his cock and pushed back.
"That's it baby. Squeeze that cock." He carried on his steady fucking, pulling her back onto his cock as she thrust back.
His hands were warm on her hips. She focussed on the warmth of his body -- better than plastic at least.
She bent her elbows and lowered her breasts to the quilt. She could feel the smooth fabric rubbing her nipples. She rested her cheek on the pillow and reached back to her cunt. She spread her second and third fingers and slid her hand to cover her mons. She could feel his fat cock sliding between her fingers.
