Author's note: It has been a while since I last wrote anything and in all honesty inspiration has alluded me. But a chance meeting last year has provided me with a few scenarios that I thought I could work with.
This is a work of pure fiction, based upon a chance meeting that took place a couple of weeks before Christmas 2020. In the country I live in, Covid 19 restrictions were not as severe, back then, as they were in other countries. Hence the fact that we were able to freely go to restaurants and bars as long as rules regarding masks and distancing were observed...
Ok, here goes...I hope you enjoy my little tale.
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As I lay in bed my vagina and arsehole felt as though they were on fire. It had been some months since I'd had good sex, but my bits had never had such a hammering before.
I was lying on my back, with legs apart and my knees bent, as though I was about to give birth. Both my holes were filled to their capasity with sticky, creamy semen, which now leaked out. The semen that trickled from my battered pussy mingled with that which leaked from my anus and pooled in an increased puddle under by buttocks.
I turned my head to see the reason for my sore parts, snoring softly next to me. He was also lying on his back, his body bereft of a sheet or duvet. His thick, heavy and quite large penis rested on his stomach. Even in its flaccid state, it looked impressive.
As I began to reminisce, about what had recently taken place, it occurred to me that it was time for him to leave. I was thinking that after he was gone, I would put a pair of my panties in the freezer in an attempt to quench the fire that was raging in my nether regions.
So how did I get into this predicament, I hear you ask. Well it wasn't planned that's for sure...
Earlier that afternoon, myself (my name is Hilda, by the way) and two of my work associates decided to meet up after work for a bite to eat and a few glasses of wine.
I will just divulge a little personal information, before we get into the nitty gritty of the story. I'm 64 years old, divorced for 25 years with 2 grown up kids who flew the nest years ago.
I am a 5 foot 6 inch blond, which I wear shortish, with a left side parting and I'd say for my age, my body is pretty good condition. My breasts are a C cup and there isn't much sagging. My large protruding nipples, when I'm aroused, are surrounded by dark areola. It is worth noting that my nipples can also be extremely sensitive when I am aroused and I have been known to orgasm just by tweaking them.
I have a little plumpness around my stomach and while my bottom is not as tight as it was 25 to 30 years ago, I still look good in tight jeans, or trousers.
My pride and joy is my vagina, especially my pubic area. I have a full and luxurious bush of dark blond hair which, while I keep it trim around the bikini line, fills out the front panels any one of a number of a pair of silk panties or thongs that I own. I also make sure that any stray hairs around my labia are shaven off on a regular basis.
I've had a few dalliances in the past, but they never came to anything. In short, I have pretty much lived alone for twenty five years.
I work as the reception manager for a large, city centre hotel, but with Covid 19 on the rise, we've had very few guests, which has made things very quiet indeed. I was told by my boss that if restrictions were tightened anymore, after Christmas, then the hotel would be forced to close temporarily.
The thought of being out of work, after Christmas, filled me with fear and dread. So in order to try and cheer me up, my co workers, Jo and April, booked a table at a local Chinese restaurant.
The plan was simple: eat, drink and make merry. But as we all know, plans are rarely adhered to.
Jo had made the arrangements and as we entered the restaurant, we were shown to our table. The restaurant, one of the oldest establishments in the city, was situated on the second floor of a large complex of buildings overlooking the large city square.
We would have liked a table by the window that looked out onto the square, but it was occupied already by a couple of gentlemen.
As we took our seats, I noticed the men. They looked to be in their late 40's and were quite handsome. They hadn't noticed us, as they were in deep discussion.
Jo noticed me looking at the men and dug me in the ribs with her elbow.
"You'll lose out if you think you're going to bed either of those, " she said. "Look at that guy's ring finger."
I looked closer and saw one of them had a ring on his wedding finger. I couldn't see the other fella's finger because it was hidden from view on the other side of the table.
"Damn," I thought. "Oh well, one can dream I suppose."
The food we ordered was delicious and after eating we decided to stay a while longer and each of us bought a bottle of wine. As the wine flowed, tongues loosened and soon the subject turned from work and the awfully depressing position the virus was about to put us all into, to an even more depressive subject: sex and the lack of it.
Jo complained that her husband appeared to have lost all interest in fucking her.
"No matter what I say or do to try and get him in the mood, he would rather watch sport. My vibrator gets more action these days," she said, as she chugged a large mouthful of wine down her throat.
I have known Jo for a long time. She is a very attractive woman of 55. Tall and slender with long dark hair, that falls over her shoulders. She doesn't need to dress to impress, in flashy clothing, because she has a style that shows off her body in an understated way. The neck line of whatever she wears shows just a hint of cleavage, suggesting she has large, firm breasts, which she does. Bigger then mine. Her waist is narrow and naturally draws your eye to her slender hips and perfectly formed bottom. Sometimes she will wear trousers that accent the curve of her buttocks, other times she wears dresses or skirts that hug her beautiful contours.
Now, I am not gay or bi, but if I was alone in a locked room with Jo, I might not be able to keep my hands off of her. Which is why I was surprised and puzzled by her admission that her husband wasn't interested in her sexually, anymore.
"Maybe you should have an affair," replied April.
I wasn't surprised by April's suggestion. She is the youngest of us, at 47 years old. Quite vain. She changes the colour of her graying hair almost as much as changes her underwear. She goes the gym, three times a week, dressed in tight micro-fibre outfits to impress and attract anyone who sees her. Her husband who is 7 years her senior has let himself go over the years. He was heavily into weight training, but after reeling April in, he stopped trying to impress and fell into a comfortable existence with her. Comfortable for him, but not for her.
April was a real catch and she can still attract plenty of male attention, both old and young.
Yes, her suggestion came as no surprise, but Jo's response caused my eyebrows to raise.
"I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about it, " she replied. "But it's just not in my nature to cheat and for all his faults, Ben is a good man and I couldn't live with myself if I hurt him like that."
I found my concentration drifting and turned my attention once more to the gentlemen seated at the window table.
They were chatting over chicken chow mien and chicken in black bean sauce.
I also noticed quite an array of empty and half empty beer glasses on the table.
One of them wore a black shirt, Levi jeans and very stout walking shoes. His hair was dark brown and quite messy, like he couldn't be bothered to comb it before he left his home.
His friend, who I felt very attracted to, wore a polo shirt, under a V necked sweater, Levi jeans and sneakers. His hair was styled short, with that salt and pepper colour that I have always found sexy on a man, because it gives him a distinguished look. I could tell that he had used wax or some other kind of hairdressing product to keep it in place.
"I quite like the look of that one," I said, as I watched them pay their bill and ready to leave.
The grey haired guy briefly looked over in my direction, with both his hands dug deeply into his jacket pockets. I think he noticed me watching him, because he leaned into his friend and whispered something. The two looked over at us and smiled, whilst they donned their coats.
My heart started to thump against my chest as they walked over to our table.
The man with the messy hair introduced himself as John and introduced his friend, the man that I fancied, as Tony.
We ladies introduced ourselves too.
Tony appeared to be very quiet, almost bordering on shy. So I asked him if he enjoyed the food. He stuttered with his answer a little bit, but told us that it was very nice.
"I notice that you have quite a few beers on the table," I said, in an almost flirtatious way.
"Yes," replied John. He appeared to be the more confident of the two of them. But I still found Tony's shyness cute and appealing. "Well it'll soon be Christmas, so we've got a good excuse for it."
Jo pointed out that we had three bottles of wine and there were three of us and three more bottles had been ordered and were on their way.
"I suppose you're planning to have a good time then," replied Tony.
"That's the plan," I replied. "Why don't you join us?"
