Jayne's World Part 11 -- fingers, tongues & an ass.
The affair between an older man and younger woman takes an anal turn.
Author's note.
This story happened over a long weekend, Friday to Monday and took place in Yorkshire, England.
Whilst it is reported broadly in chronological order that is not strictly the case and some actions are described more because of their relevance to something else that happened than to the time frame of those four days.
Him.
Although my trip to see Jayne had included some sexual disappointment, we'd been ok when we parted, well, at least, I thought so. But then, when a mid-fifties-year-old divorcee is having a fling with a mid-twenty's young woman, who can tell for sure?
We'd been having this loose sort of affair for a couple of months since I had effectively picked the young woman up in Oxford Street in the centre of London one afternoon. Affair is probably a bit of an overstatement actually as I live over 200 miles away from Jayne's near London home where she lives with her mum and we had met just once since the 'pick up'!
At that first meeting in London, we had spent the afternoon and much of the evening together but then I had to catch my train and apart from a few emails and a couple of phone calls, nothing had happened until Jayne had invited me to visit her home while she was there alone.
The episode on the way home after dinner at a local pub when I had tried to shag her in the open air but had lost my erection was a worry, but later that night, actually around three in the morning, I awoke to the delicious feeling of her hand stroking my, what I realised was a near hard on. That was not just such a relief but also an excitement, especially when she clambered on top of me, straddled me across my stomach, took my erection in her hand and fed it slowly into her gaping wetness. And like that in the near total darkness of her bedroom she fucked me.
Her.
I'd had guys go soft on me before but that was more to do with what they had shoved up their nose or drank rather than their age. But then I had not been with an older or, should I call it mature, man before James. And in the car park of The Fleece as he'd messed around with my skirt and I had got my tits out before he tried to fuck me and went soft, I began to question just why the hell I was with one then?
Somewhat disappointedly we didn't try to have sex when we got back to my house and we went to bed like an old married couple, fuck it.
Something, and I have no idea what it was, woke me. Glancing at my watch I saw that it was just after three which had given you several hours to recover.
You were snoring quietly as I sat up and pulling my tee shirt off, I moulded myself against your body. I squashed my, somewhere between B and C cup, tits against your arm and back and reaching around you I fumbled in your boxers and to my delight found some strength. Lightly grasping your, by no means fully hard but certainly active cock I softly rubbed it and felt thrilled as it grew in my hand.
That must have woken you for I felt your hand grip mine and you mutter.
"What's going on?"
Smiling I replied. "I am rubbing your cock grandad to get some life back into it."
"Fuck Jayne," you replied. "I've not done anything like this for years."
"Well, I don't make a habit of it," I grinned rubbing it a little harder as it grew in my hand. "Lay still," I went on sliding your boxers off and stroking your stomach and balls before rolling on top of you and whispering. "Ok grandad I am now going to fuck you as you've never been fucked before.
And straddled across you I did exactly that.
Although that was not quite the end of your visit it pretty much summed things up and just a few hours later I dropped you at the tube station and went home. After the 'adventures' with you of the past twenty-four hours everything around the house seemed very quiet.
Him.
On the train back to Leeds, I ran over in my mind the weird and wonderful time with Jayne. Things hadn't gone quite as I hoped but overall, I was pretty pleased with myself apart that is from the burst of jealousy I had about the restaurant owner who I was pretty sure had shagged her. That was far from me being cool and kind of blew my cover as a sophisticated, mature lover.
Although I had been with Jayne for less than twenty-four hours, we'd had sex four times including that so memorable blow job where she had let me cum in her mouth and had swallowed my stuff. Alright, in the car park of the pub I had let myself down and had shown as clearly as possible that I am what I am, a middle-aged man with withering recover powers!
Over the next few days, I heard nothing from Jayne and I began to wonder whether that was it? I most certainly didn't want it to end as I both enjoyed her company, loved the thrill of sex with such a young woman and I felt a genuine affection for her. Deep down I knew of course that there was no future but in the words of Jayne's world I had to live for the moment. And that's why a week or so later I sent her an email asking her to come up to my place in Yorkshire and specified 'for a long weekend Friday to Monday!'
I was a bit pissed off when I didn't receive a reply for a week or so and I assumed that was the end of us. I was quite upset but being an optimistic type I looked on the bright side and felt thankful for what we had done together.
Her.
The few days after that short time together in my house, I couldn't get James out of my mind and struggled to understand my attraction to a guy who was older than my dad. But the fact was that there was an attraction and, although I thought I would shake it off and end it, my mind kept returning to that afternoon when we met, the evening when you fingered me to an orgasm in that street behind the Savoy hotel and the day and night we spent at my house. Ok there was a disappointment when you lost your erection when we tried to have sex in the car park on the way home and when we went to bed, we really did just sleep together well, for a few hours that was before the middle of the night when I straddled you.
I tried shutting him and the memories out and getting back to my more normal 'love and social life.' The 'flash Harrys' from the ad industry and the city boys I tended to mix with. I dated a foreign exchange dealer from a large US investment bank. We had a swanky, ridiculously expensive dinner at Nobu and went back to his flat in Shoreditch where he shoved powder up his nose and tried to shove himself up me. I had evenings in the Covent Garden ad industry pubs where an assortment of very clever guys tried to impress my knickers off me but again as they did and even when I snogged a couple, James kept coming into my mind.
I was torn as to whether to sleep with the forex dealer or the art director when I got an email.
'How about a long, old-fashioned banker's weekend in Yorkshire, accommodation, companionship and sustenance provided?'
My heart leaped and then pounded when I received it. I didn't know what to do. Surely, I wouldn't go was my first instinct but then my mind recalled the city trader and the art director and Yorkshire started to have an appeal. But then, on the other hand, there was the other worry. And that was bigger than any other. I was starting no, had started no, had got feelings for you. That worried and shocked me. Surely, I was not falling for you?
'Sorry for not replying earlier,' I typed a few days later, lying as I wrote. 'Been having IT email issues,' before adding and ending with. 'When, J?'
Him.
