I met Bobbie on a trip to Jamaica. She was sweet and compassionate, and friendly. Me, I'm 22 years old, was at a wedding, and saw her in the bar one night and chatted her up. Granted, there is the age difference -- Bobbie was 69 years old -- but something about her struck me. I'm drawn to older women; they're easy to bed and eager to please, no questions asked. And, as it turned out in Bobbie's case, no quarter given.
She had short blonde hair, and a prunish, wrinkled face, not that good looking, with thick wrinkles on her aging neck that rippled down her cleavage to decent sized tits. She wore a short skirt, and had really fine legs, wrinkled and tanned but firm looking, strong. Her ass looked superb in her skirt, and glaring at it as long as I did, fueled by free booze at the all-inclusive resort we were at, I had to have it.
We chatted long into the night, me watching those wrinkles pucker around her mouth when she laughed, and her turkey waddle wiggling at me most enticingly. I'd fucked many GILFs in my young days, but none over 50. This would be a new benchmark.
When she talked with her hands, her supple arms swung beneath, not with fat but sexy wrinkled meaty flesh. The talk got more and more alluring, and sexual, as I flirted heavily, trying to get her to take a walk with me on the beach, in the dark.
"Why whatever for, young man?" she cooed, batting her big brown eyes at me.
"Whatever m'lady would like," I cooed back.
"M'lady, that's rather sexy and submissive of you," she growled with a dark seductive smile.
"Indeed it is..m'lady! Now, shall we walk?"
We did, talking, going to the far end of the moonlit beach where no one was, the waves splashing ashore. I took her hand; it felt bony and frail in my bigger one. I brought it to my mouth, kissing her fingers, sexily licking them, then I moved to her face, kissing her gently, then probing with my tongue into the wrinkled pucker of her sexy old mouth.
"Mercy me, Michael, you're so brash!" she giggled, as I pulled away to nibble that soft, warm wrinkled flesh of her neck, suckling the folds into my mouth and tonguing them until she moaned. "Goodness, you're rather turned on by a woman old enough to be your granny!"
"I know, I am, I am," I moaned, cupping her amazingly hard but fleshy ass, smallish but firm, kneading the flesh in my hands, pulling up her skirt and fondling the bare flesh. She wore a thong!
"Naughty of me, a thong at my age," she hissed, allowing me to lick down the wrinkled flesh of her cleavage to bury my face in the bare tits there, she wore no bra, either, suckling the sweaty saggy meat into my mouth and feasting on the big brown nipples.
"God, Bobbie, you are so fucking hot!"
"Oh, now, young man, we can't have that language," she hissed. "You must be punished!"
I stood back, smiling at her suddenly mean countenance, a harsh look on her pretty face as she peeled off her dress to stand in that black thong and sandals, hands on hips, one cocked to the side, the moonlight shining on her sinewy wrinkled arms, tits, belly and legs. In her crotch, an explosion of downy hair erupted from the sides of her tiny thong.
"Punish me then, granny, do your worst!" I laughed, hands apart.