Jayne's World Part 4
An older man and a younger woman examine the age difference to find out if it really matters.
As those of you who have read the previous parts will know this is not a wham bang thank you ma'am sort of story. It's a slow burner, with regard to describing physical sex between Jayne, a 23-year-old 'adchick' and James a 55-year-old retired banker.
For some, age is a barrier, a huge one, a non-starter. Many cannot handle age differences and won't even try. James and Jayne wondered whether they could? This series of impressions and observations examines what happened when they tried.
Reading the previous parts might add to your appreciation of the couple's situation, but it's not essential as I hope this stands alone as an erotic story.
Her.
I think it was the languid, unhurried pace more than anything else that so appealed to me. The way that you seemed to have time for everything. The way that you completed one task, such as anointing one breast or arousing one nipple, before moving on to the other, that appealed so much. Your patience, your diligence, your concern for me and your conscientiousness in ensuring that you did everything sort of, how could I best describe it, ah yes, as well as you could do it, all contributed to making that surreal period in that booth so fucking horny that I almost had a climax. Almost, but not quite.
'Why the fuck am I doing this?' Suddenly came into my mind as you sucked my nipples and then slid your hands up my skirt and grabbed my arse. As nice as that I felt, I stopped you. I was having a mental battle with my alter ego.
I don't like ageism, but for Christ's sake, he's in his fifties, I thought? So? I countered, what's the problem? He's got a cock, you know that, he gets it very hard, you know that. He wants to fuck you, you know that and, so far, he's been a great lover, you know that very well. But, he's old. So? You will be one day and wouldn't it be nice if a young bloke took a fancy to you?
"Come on," I said. "We have to go."
"Why?"
"Because James this is not a knocking shop, we can mess around a bit, but there are limits and we're in danger of breaking them."
"Oh sorry."
I laughed, "It's a strange new world isn't it?" I said, as I did up a few of the buttons on my blouse and put the pashmina back round my neck in preparation for outside, but didn't tie it. "So, I take it the answer's yes?" I said as we threaded our way through the very busy 'ordinary' peoples' area.
"To what?" You asked
I replied rather louder than necessary as we walked past a large group who looked at 'gramps and young bird.'
"As to whether my tits are better than Lita's?"
"Course they are girl," a bloke standing with his mates watching a girl strip on a plasma said. His mate added. "Well give us a flash and I'll tell yer."
"Bloody cheek," you said gallantly.
"Let it go James, we're in a man's world here."
We wandered out of the club into the hustle and bustle of Covent Garden.
"I never knew it was common for girls to go to such clubs?" You said.
"Well, it's becoming so," I told you. "You did enjoy it, I take it."
"Yes of course. And the answer Jayne," you said as we came to a narrow alley that ran down towards The Strand, I think, actually near the celeb restaurant Joe Allen. "Is that yours are better."
"My tits you mean," you said as we turned down the alley.
"Yes," you said putting your arm round my waist, and resting your hand on my bum. I wiggled it.
"You liked looking at them did you?"
"Of course, any man would."
Smiling, I said as I fiddled with the pashmina. "So would quite a few women, you know."
"Yes of course," you smiled rubbing my bum through the denim. "You're the bi generation, aren't you?"
Laughing I said "Something like that," as I turned into a deep doorway near to the Savoy.
"What's this?" You asked your hand leaving my bum as you followed me into the darkness of the doorway.
Going as far in as I could to where there was just a little light, but where we would be unlikely to be seen, I turned and leaned back against the plate glass of the office doors. As I did, I pulled the pashmina from round my neck and said.
"Well, you can look at them again now James."
Your eyes were as big as organ stops when you saw that I had again undone the buttons on the blouse and had pulled it open. The cooler night air on my tits, not only felt good, but also made my nipples pulsate to their hardest erection.
Him.
My cock was aching. Aching with arousal, aching with lust, aching with excitement. Aching with the need to fuck. And simply aching for you. Aching for you to touch it, hold it and suck it.
I had decided some hours earlier that I wanted her, though truthfully, our age difference had suggested that was highly unlikely. I mean, it was a problem for me, wondering whether it was 'right' to pursue someone so much younger, whether I could satisfy you if you succumbed to my 'charms', whether my fifty-five-year-old body would be a turn off for someone as young and attractive as you. Whether me not being able to do it again half hour after the first shag, as I assume your young bucks did, would be an issue
So, if it was an issue for me, God knows what must be going on in your mind. Hell, you must have major doubts! But if so, you were disguising them well. Not only had you taken me to a lap dancing club, you'd hinted at your bi sexuality, let me grope your arse, had fondled my bulge, flashed your tits at me in the club, and were now doing the same in the dimly lit area you'd provocatively led me into.
For some reason, the thought of you with other women had been running through my mind. Every man's fantasy! This talk about the bi generation was inflaming my arousal, the thought of you with another woman, or women even, maybe your blonde hair entwined with a brunette or redhead, or all blondes together and her/their mouths on your pussy, those wonderful tits, oh fuck!
