Jayne's World Part 7.
The 55-year-old gets aggressive.
Her.
I had forgotten just how wonderful a feeling it is when a new lover enters you for the first time. It's always something special. It might not last, though, sometimes not even to the end of the shag. It's odd how women, well me at least, can fancy a man so much and to the point that I am on my back, legs spread and dripping for us to fuck, only for me to then be wondering, almost as soon as he is embedded in me up to his hilt, 'Why the fuck am I doing this?' It can be the attempts he's made to get his angle of entry correct, he may not be hard enough, I may not be wet enough, he may use too much force, not enough, rush things or miss the sodding hole completely and slither his dick between my legs. He may grip me too hard, hurt me, squeeze me painfully or squash me. So many things. His breath may smell, his kiss may turn animalistic and he may simply not feel nice to my touch. And when any of those things happens, no matter what other skills he has and irrespective of how hard he tries, the fancying of him to the previous level can never return. But when it slides in easily first time, he holds me properly, it fits into me like a hand into a glove or, more appropriately perhaps, a cock into a condom, his body moulds perfectly to mine, the pressure of him and his hands on me is just right and when his back and bum are lovely to my touch then it really does feel as though he has come home at last and it's as if I am welcoming the prodigal son back into my person. To my enormous relief, that was exactly how it was with us. And that is exactly how it was right through our first bout of lovemaking.
You made me cum very quickly, but then that is a problem I usually encounter with a new lover. I seem to get so keyed up, so excited, so aroused and so ready for him that almost as soon as he is in me and I have the relief that he is ok, then that causes the other relief and my outpourings in both my female juices and my emotional satisfaction are so strong that I climax.
"Oh yes James, oh yes, yes, yes," I moaned, my legs wrapping themselves more firmly round your hips as, realising my need, you slammed yourself into me as far as you could go and held it there, ramrod straight and granite hard. "Oh yes, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me hard you dirty old bastard."
"Is that what you want?" you asked rhetorically, seeming as if by instinct to grasp my mood and needs. "Is that what you really want?" You repeated, adding. "To talk dirty, to have me talk dirty to you as I fuck you, as I fuck your young, tight, juicy cunt."
"Oh God yes," I groaned thrusting my young, tight, juicy cunt as firmly as I could against your mature, smooth, hard cock.
"Tell me Jayne, tell me."
"Tell you what?" I groaned almost out of it from delirium.
"What you want grandad to do to you, what you want the dirty old bastard to do to the sweet young baby?"
"To fuck me."
"Hard?"
"Yes, fuck me hard as hard as you can."
"Where do you want to be fucked Jayne?"
"In my cunt."
"You want gramps to fuck your cunt?" You asked.
"Yes, fuck me, fuck me in my cunt."
And that is exactly what you did for God knows how long; the next two minutes or two hours for all I know.
Him.
There's something about entering a woman for the first time.
On one level, it's the culmination of the chase. Everything, from meeting a woman you find attractive, discovering that there is chemistry between you and engaging in the mating ritual is leading up to this point. Sometimes of course, the chase proves to be more pleasurable than the end result, though on the whole, it's true what they say; 'Sex and golf are the only two things you can be crap at yet still enjoy.'
On a second and wholly different level, it's the physical aspect. Does it feel like two different people that first time? Clumsy and uncertain? A coldness and feeling of distance, despite the intimacy. The sensation of two strangers coming together? And yes, I do mean coming together, as opposed to cumming together.
On either level, you actually know before you slide inside that this could be a mistake, that's if the act of fucking can ever be described as a mistake, of course. Maybe sometimes there's a feeling of let's get this over with, and then it's a race to the finish line to get it over and done with.
Conversely, when it feels right, it's bliss and how heaven must be. And that's exactly how it was with Jayne.
Everything felt right, from the moment I undressed you, gazed at your naked body, went down on you, tasted you, made you cum with my tongue and fingers. From the moment I took my clothes off, allowed you to see that fifty plus isn't that old after all, felt my cock twitch merely by the fact you were looking at it, then asking if you could have it.
It felt right from the way we kissed, a mixture of tenderness and passion, deep and soft, sloppy and wet, exchanging saliva, tongues duelling with one another, searching, licking, entwining. From the way I held and stroked you, our bodies felt right being next to each other and how we fitted together.
All of the above combined to make the moment of entry truly special and for the age difference to be irrelevant
Your soft, smooth skin felt perfect against mine. Your young body seemed to fit under me so well. Your legs wrapped around me in just the way that enhanced my arousal. Your hands and fingers on my skin made me tingle. And the way your velvet insides cossetted my cock, accepted and welcomed 'him' so comfortably and easily, created a surge in my cock and balls.
This, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, was as close to perfection as I could ever remember.
To begin with, I pushed all the way inside you, my belly slapping against yours as I rammed myself home. As always happens when I start what I know is going to be the perfect fuck, I felt the surge inside me threaten to produce an early end. I did what I always do in that moment.
I stretched my body to its absolute limit and held myself there, ramrod straight and granite hard. Don't fuck me back, not yet, I silently implored you, biting down on my lower lip. Thank God you heard my mute plea. Your legs wrapped themselves more firmly round my hips and we stayed like that for a nano-second, perhaps, two nano-seconds, maybe several seconds and possibly a minute or two, who the hell knows, who the hell cares and who the hell was counting? You and I weren't for we were screwing, fucking and making love or starting too until my crisis had passed.
