Stefan wore a white, open-necked shirt with enough buttons undone to reveal the silver chain he had decided to wear today. His pale blue linen trousers showed the length of the man's body from his dark, tousled hair to the tan slip-on shoes on his large feet. Beneath this he had grey socks and had this time opted for black silk boxer shorts. He knew he would be suffering a painful erection again at some point before he'd manage to get the beast unleashed. No need then for the restriction he'd felt yesterday in briefs. Stefan headed out his front door, locked it behind him, paced down his garden path, closed his gate behind him, turned right, opened Bridget's gate and strode up her path.
Bridget had opened the door before he'd even had the chance to knock.
"Ooh, are those for me?" she purred.
"Wouldn't be a date without roses and you said that this would be our first."
Those words had such a strange ring to them given the fantastic sex the pair had shared the day before. Bridget wore a lovely floral summer dress and flip-flop style shoes with flowers and gemstones on them. Her brown-grey hair had been washed and curled since yesterday.
"I've made us some lunch, we can eat in the conservatory but follow me through to the kitchen first, while I put these in some water" said Bridget.
Stefan obeyed and admired the view of his new lover's rear walking before him.
"Actually, Bridget, I have to confess, I don't have much of an appetite. I've been feeling so nervous!"
"That's OK, these sandwiches will keep in the fridge and maybe we'll develop an appetite later. I know exactly what you mean about nerves though. I feel like a schoolgirl with a crush on an older boy. That's ironic isn't it? Anyway, come over here and let me greet you properly."
As he approached Bridget, she backed away towards the kitchen units. There was nowhere to go even if she had been trying to avoid the coming together. The big guy had the small woman covered in all directions and physically dominated her, much to her approval. His large hands on her small face, he didn't need to work up to french-kissing this time. They were soon in a passionate embrace and Stefan's hands were wandering. The right cradled her face as the left caressed her bare arm, then slipped around the back tracing her zip down over her bra strap and down to where he expected to feel the back section of her knickers. He was surprised to feel, through the thin fabric, a bare, plump arsecheek which he squeezed joyfully. As they remained entwined in tonsil-hockey, Stefan could sense his own mounting arousal already. Bridget's hands gripped both her young lover's buttocks throughout. Stefan brought his left hand around to fondle his older lover's right tit. He found it firmer than he imagined, housed, as it was, in today's bra.
"There you go, darling, no need for nerves now, this is going exactly how we both want it to. Take me to bed, stud!"
Stefan led Bridget by the hand through the door and toward the staircase,
"After you, darling" said Stefan, stepping aside.