Fun With Selma

I was standing by the barricades and watching the ships in the port. I saw her waiting, looking kind of lost. I asked if she was waiting for someone to get off the ship. She said that she was waiting for her husband to park the car. They were going on a cruise. We were talking about this and that for a little while.

She must have been about 60 but looked good for her age. Her skin looked soft on her pretty face. I felt that she was starting to flirt with me. I am younger than her but I thought that she had something special about her. The person I was supposed to meet was there. So I wished good luck and goodbye to her. Something made me turn around and give her my card and asked to call me if she needed any help in town.

I didn't think about her until I got a call the next week. She had a hard time reminding me about meeting me on the pier. Her name is Selma. She said that her husband was in a hospital and she didn't know anyone in town and she wanted to say hi to the only person she knew. I didn't know what to say. I was free that evening. We arranged to meet at a Cuban restaurant near her hotel.

Her husband had a mild heart attack and was recovering from it in the hospital. They didn't even go on the cruise. We had some traditional Cuban food. While eating, she was talking about her kids, grand kids and retired life with her husband. She had been a housewife all her life. I told her that I was surprised she called me. She said that he was feeling brave in her old age.

I dropped her off at her hotel. My mind was stuck with a picture of her beautiful face. I had never been infatuated with an older woman before. She was married and I didn't want to spoil a marriage. That night in bed, I was thinking of Selma and pleasuring myself. She felt so good in my imagination. Her skin was white, soft and smooth. My imagination was going wild, me doing sweet, sensual things to her in my dreams.

Guys forget about things like that most of the time. I almost forgot about her. But Selma didn't forget me even for a day after that the first meeting on the pier and thought even more about me after the dinner at the Cuban restaurant.

I got a call from her out of the blue. Selma sounded like a teenager, excited and enthusiastic. She was still in Canada. Her husband was doing better. He was almost back to his usual after the recovery period. I was getting excited talking to her. I tried to hold myself back. She was a married woman, I reminded myself. She called every now and then to "hear" my voice she said.

This went on for a few months. We started talking more intimate things. She said that she got very wet every time she talks to me. And that she felt so safe and comfortable talking to me. These things were starting to affect me. I was worried that she was falling in love with me. That word is such a scary word for most guys specially when a married older woman says that. Luckily, she was far away. I was sure that the calls would stop when she got tired of it.

She called me on a Sunday morning and shocked me by saying that she was in town. I asked about her husband. He had died almost a month ago. She wanted to take a break and flew down here. I offered her my condolences. She apologized for it being abrupt and that she was sure that she would not go through with it.

I met her at the same Cuban restaurant. We hugged and she would not let go. I was feeling bad that she lost her husband. She must be missing him a lot. When we finally sat down, she was grinning and could not take her eyes off me. I was a little embarrassed and feeling guilty. We ate the same food as the first time. She came closer to me and whispered to me that her panties were soaking wet. We got out of the restaurant. She started holding my hand as we walked out. Her hand was shaking and cold and holding my hand real tight.

When we were at her hotel, she was feeling shy and started to stare at the floor. I knew that if I went up to her room, we would have some animalistic sex. I tried to think rationally but my blood was drained from my brain. No amount of thinking about anything else would make my hard penis to deflate. We walked up to her room without saying a word.

I locked the door and embraced her, real tight and felt her body shivering. We were going to do something that both of us had not dreamed of – she: making love to a younger guy and me: having sex with a older woman.

That was a time that I will never ever forget. That afternoon in that hotel room.

Now for the juicy details: We kissed like teenagers. I felt her smooth soft lips on my lips. It was so divine. I can almost feel that right now. Our tongues danced with each other. She tasted so sweet. I was holding her neck with the right hand and her back with my left. If our lips were the piano keys, we were playing "Ode to Joy." So intense and so rhythmic that I don't know how long we kissed.

We stopped kissing and we looked at each other's eyes for the first time so close. I could see the beauty of a thousand moons in her eyes. It was blue like the Caribbean sea. She started to say something then stopped. I could see the lust in her eyes. I attempted to pick her up and she started to laugh. I held her hands and pulled her to the bed. We both sat and I told her that her saliva was like sugar water and her lips were as soft as the softest petals of a flower. She stared at me for a moment and said that maybe I was a poet. I told her that she was making me a poet. She smiled and lay on the bed with her feet on the floor. Her arms were spread like an angel. Her eyes were closed.

I leaned over and got on my hands and knees on the bed straddling her without putting too much weight on her. I kissed her lips briefly. I told her to close her eyes. I kissed her eyelids, forehead, tip of the nose, cheeks, chin and kept going lower. She started to moan when I kissed the nipple covered with her clothes. I went lower and lower and I kissed her crotch. She tried to protest. I pushed her hands away. I opened the jeans and held the panties and pulled both of them down to her ankles. I removed the shoes and pulled the jeans and panties completely off. I pulled the panties to my nose. It was so wet as she had said in the restaurant. I smelled the nectar of the gods. It was so yummy.

I massaged her thighs and she tried to cover her crotch. I had to hold the hands away. I moved closer to her crotch and started licking her thighs – left and right side slowly moving up. I could see her pink pussy so wet that it was oozing the fragrant pussy juice. I licked the thighs closer and closer and she started squirming. I licked the outside of the lips. The juice was oozing more and more. I licked closer and closer and started chewing on the outer lips. She was moaning loudly. She said that I was driving her crazy. I ignored her and kept doing what I was doing. Chewing the outer lips and then licking the area around the clit. I was careful not to get too close to the clit. I wanted her to last as long as possible. I knew that I was being cruel and that she wanted to cum really bad right then. She was moaning and begging me to make her cum.

I put my mouth over the lower part of the pussy and sucked the juice. She screamed with pleasure. I was drinking the juice of the gods. I started licking the lips up and down as the pussy was throbbing. She was begging me to make her cum. "Make mama cum now" she screamed. Me being the sadistic SOB, went on licking the lips up and down and slowly started to tongue fuck her pussy, she was screaming more now.

I decided to make her cum and licked closer to her clit. As soon as I licked her clit. She exploded with an orgasm. The juice was gushing out. I hungrily sucked every drop of it. Her legs fell down by her side. I looked up and saw her eyes shut and a smile and a look of total satisfaction.

I lay next to her and got her head on my shoulder and made her roll a little to put one leg between my legs. She slowly opened her eyes and said that she had never cum that hard before. She started licking the pussy juice from my face. Then she sighed and said that she wished that either I was older or she was younger. I had totally forgotten about the age difference between us. She was the sweetest woman I had been with.

About 3 months later, she moved in with me. We fuck like teenagers. She cannot have enough. She wanted to fuck all the time. My family was upset with me and no one called me anymore. Except her youngest son, no one else in her family wanted to talk to her. It's been 6 years since we first met on the pier at the port. She is now 68 and I am 42. When she is really turned on she says "fuck mama." She never uses the word mama otherwise. We still love to make love. Only that now she calls it sex and I call it making love.

I shall write more about our sex and relationship in the next chapter.