Icing on the Cae

Icing on the Cake

By Rosalee Bloom

Get up. Get up and pee, I told myself. It could not be put off any longer after shifting around in bed for who knows how long. The sun was up, and it was time to start the day. It began just like all the other unstructured days in these early weeks of retirement.

Sitting on the pot, the pee began to stream, and I felt that familiar tingle on my delicate pussy flesh. Oh, Will, I sighed. He had stopped to see me the previous day on the way to the brewery to cover a bartending shift as a favor to his cousin. The bedroom fun we had was well worth some temporary sensitivity.

Passing the mirror on the way to the kitchen, I grabbed a T-shirt and pulled it over my head in on in a slow seductive way. My figure looked very curvy with the large breasts, defined waist, and big hips. I turned to see if my stomach looked flat. The bedhead would need to wait; my silver hair which went in all directions. Not too bad for an old lady, I told myself.

Will was one of several forty-something guys I had met online who said they liked older women. This was a concept I first had trouble accepting, but I soon found out it was a thing. Since my encounters with older men were not working, I decided to get on trend.

Now Will was raised right and he could carry on an intelligent conversation. I found this so sexy. We were not able to connect very often in person with his parental, work, and coaching responsibilities, so we texted about all kinds of things and talked on the phone sometimes. His first kiss took my breath away. He was solid, bearded, and in control of himself. I felt so naughty being with him when he wore only a little gold cross on a thin chain around his neck. The first time we had sex, it was like being in a porno movie.

Back in bed with a cup of coffee, his question of yesterday came back to me like a lightning bolt: "What do you want me to do with all this cum?"

At the time, I momentarily wondered why he was asking me. I was happily post-orgasmic, but I think I managed to say, "Inside". Isn't that what he's supposed to do; I wasn't going to get pregnant, after all. In the clarity of the morning after, I realized that I had been asked this question before. It happened long ago in a one-off deal with someone whose name I didn't even remember. Where do you want it?

Damn. Will was giving me choice! I could have directed a big finish, but I had not caught on in time. How would I answer the next time; what are the options?

My mind began to race as my hand slid to my pussy. On my bush I pictured a drizzle of creamy drops settling on brown curls. It would be such a turn-on to experience this with Will. Then again, he could aim his cock at my navel. I arched by back and ran both hands over my stomach. At close quarters I might be able to feel the blast, as well as, see a ring of cum splattered all over my torso. Oh, what a pi day.

By then, I was really enjoying this freedom of thought. I rolled to my side and slowly caressed my right ass cheek. There was plenty of ground to cover from hip, to the swell of the back, over the round cheek, along the crack, around my asshole to my swollen pussy lips. What an image that would be; I would need my glasses and a mirror to get a good look.

Squeezing my legs together I moved onto my back and cupped my large breasts. My pussy was now very wet. That's it, a cock sandwich. Slide that hard thing between my soft pillows, then boom! I could see my light-colored areolas and hard nipples covered in cum. Will's cock would be close enough for little lick of the last drops.

The body lotion on my nightstand became the imaginary cum covering my breasts, navel and bush. I rolled from side to side giving myself a firm slap on the ass. My mind replayed all the delicious action of the previous day with Will while I rubbed my pussy with my right hand and twisted my nipple with the left. My orgasm was deep and hard. I flipped to my stomach and buried my face in the pillow with a sigh and a smile.

The ringing of landline phone soon woke me. It had to be my daughter checking to see if I was alive after not answering her text and call to my cell phone. I dispensed with the call telling her I was having a quiet weekend and had mowed the lawn yesterday.

By then the coffee was cold, but my pussy felt sticky and wet. In the shower I washed off all the imaginary cum with thick suds.

As for the question, I realized that there were no wrong answers. The real pleasure had been in letting go with a trusted partner. Having done the homework, I am ready ask some questions of my own