Chapter 1: Learning to Dance
I know why Susan was my girlfriend.
I was in my mid-20's, a graduate student at a medium sized university, and I had plenty of girls to choose from, even if I wasn't the kind of guy to get the beauty queen. Susan wasn't particularly pretty—or ugly. She was about 15 pounds overweight—a little on the plump side. She did have enormous knockers—cantaloupe sized, that I adored because although they were big, they were firm, not saggy. But the reason I liked being Susan's boyfriend was that she loved to fuck. I don't know what the clinical definition of nymphomania is, but she must have come close. She was always horny, and if she wasn't horny, she was willing to get that way. I didn't take much. All I had to do was say, " God, your tits look delicious today" and she be unzipping my pants. She'd fuck anywhere anytime.
We had a little project gong on—we were trying to screw in every building on the campus. The other thing about Susan was that she would talk about other women all the time in the most lewd way. We'd see a woman walking down the street and she'd say things like, "I'll bet she'd like to do it with another woman—she looks like a bisexual." I found all this dirty talk very—stimulating.
Susan had invited me over to her house one evening. Her mom was going out and we would be alone for a few hours. She wanted to fuck me in her mom's bed—which I found kinky in a pleasant sort of way. I guess that makes me slightly kinky too. Susan's mom had been divorced for about 5 years and I wanted to see what a middle-aged divorced woman kept in her bedroom. Did she have sexy lingerie? Dildos? Or just boring old granny panties? Susan told me I could find out for myself.
I arrived about 7 p.m. and rang he bell. Martha, Susan's mom answered the door. "Come on in, David," she said, "Susan should be home from work any minute." Susan taught a couple of evening courses at the junior college about 60 miles away.
"Thanks, Mrs. B., " replied. I went in and sat the living room couch. Martha must have had a hot date because she was dressed in a black cocktail dress, black hose, and high heels. She had on make-up and her hair was done. I didn't usually see her like this, and she looked goods for someone in their late forties.
She noticed me looking at her and she said, "I've got a date tonight with a guy—he's taking me swing dancing. I really love that and I don't get to do it much anymore."
Just then the phone rang. She listened for a minute and then she said, "My God, are you all right? You're sure? You'll be ok? You have money? Do you want me to come and get you? Well I'm glad nothing happened to you. Ok, see you tomorrow."
"That was Susan. Her car broke down and they towed her back into Madison, but they can't get the part until tomorrow morning to fix it, so she's going to spend the night there at the college guesthouse. She's fine, and she said to tell you that she's sorry, she'll see you tomorrow too. I completely forgot to tell her you were sitting right here. Do you want me to try and call her back?"
I shook my head "no" as the phone rang again. Martha made a face and picked up the receiver. Again she listened and then she said slowly," I see... yes... well... What?! Well fuck you five ways and I hope your wife has herpes!"
Martha had surprised me with her last comment and I looked at her questioningly. "My 'date' turns out to be married and doesn't want to take me dancing because he's afraid someone he knows might see him. He suggested we sit in his car and 'talk' out by the lake—yeah, right next to a dozen other cars with horny high school kids in them." That's all he wanted—to get his rocks off-- Jesus, what a bastard!"
"Uh, sorry," was all I could think of to say.
""Looks like we've both been stood up," Martha said. "All dressed up and no place to go."
"Well, I better be going." I stood up, getting ready to head back to a lonely apartment and my studies.
"Why don't you stay a little while and dance with me here. We can slide the dining room table back and make some room on the parquet floor. I've got some swing cd's. It'll be fun."
"Uh, I don't really know how to dance Mrs. B." She had surprised me into feeling a little embarrassed.
"Oh come on, I'll teach you. I'm a good teacher. Nobody will see you and you might enjoy yourself. C'mon, just a little while. I got all dressed up and I don't want to waste it. You wouldn't deny an older lady a little satisfaction, now would you?" As she said this she made a disappointed puppy dog face.
I had to laugh. She made that face very well and she was very convincing.
"Ok, Mrs. B. but you have to promise you won't laugh at me."
"I'll promise if you'll promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
"Call me Martha."
"Ok, Martha, " I laughed.
I pushed the dining room table to one side while she picked out a cd and slid it in the player. A big band started to play a lively song and she adjusted the volume so we could speak in a normal tone.
"Ok, put this hand here"—and she placed my left hand in the small of her back—and this one here." She placed my right hand on her left shoulder. "And I'll do this." She placed her hands on me the way mine were on her.
She was a good teacher and made me feel confident and relaxed. I wasn't that bad although I wasn't always sure of what I was doing. After a few songs I had the hang of it and I was starting to enjoy dancing with Martha. I could feel the heat of her body and smell her perfume and occasionally we would get pretty close to each other—her tits would press against my chest or our crotches would briefly rub. I was starting to get turned on.
If I passed her on the street I probably wouldn't look twice at Martha. She was average in just about every way. Average height, average hair color—a sort of medium brown, a little overweight—I guess that's "average" now—and very average looks. Nothing remarkable at all either towards the pretty or the ugly. But tonight she looked very good. Her dress came to a point about 4 inches above her knees. Not a mini-dress, but close. She also had on black hose that I guessed were the old-fashioned silk kind. She was wearing high-heeled black patent strappy shoes. Her hair was curled in a frame around her face which was very artfully made up to accentuate her lips and eyes. And every time we bumped our bodies together I got a little more aroused. I thought she was getting aroused too because her face was a little pinker than normal and her eyes had a funny look in them.
The song that was playing stopped and a slow song came on. We hadn't danced a slow one yet, so I wasn't sure what to do. Martha showed me. Without any discussion or argument she moved a step closer to me, put her arm up behind my shoulder, and laid her head on my shoulder. "Like this," she said.
I quickly discovered how to hold her and we moved in slow circles around the parquet floor. I hadn't ever thought about slow dancing to old music with an older woman, but with Martha is was a purely pleasurable experience. I could feel the soft curves of her body as she moved against me and I could feel the heat of her head on my shoulder and smell her shampoo.
The song stopped and she said, "Hold on, I'm going to put on a slow cd." I didn't object. Another slow song started and she put herself expertly in my arms again, only tighter and closer this time. Her hand was lower –no longer on my back, but on my ass, and she turned her head the other direction so she was breathing on my neck. "Mmmmm," she said as she snuggled against me, "this is nice."
And I had to agree. Holding that warm woman close against me was really getting me turned on. I'm sure she knew it. She made sure her thighs were pressed close to mine, her belly was pressed into me, her boobs were tight against my chest. Her hands weren't idle either. Her fingers were making little doodles on my body. But then she surprised me. She had been breathing on my neck, her lips just two inches from my skin. Now she pushed her face into my neck and I felt her lips hungrily but lightly working themselves over my skin. I felt the feather touch of her tongue.
"I hope you don't mind," she whispered in a husky voice.
Instead of saying anything I turned my head a bit and nuzzled her ear, brushing her earlobe with the tip of my tongue before giving her a long kiss on her smooth and inviting neck.
Suddenly we were liker two teenagers, thrusting our tongues into each other's willing mouths, out hands going wild, pushing and pulling and stroking and grabbing. One of her hands was massaging my chest while both of mine dropped to her ass, cupped her ample ass-cheeks and pulled her towards me. I felt her thrust her pubis against me and the deep thrum of pleasure came from her throat. I squeezed her ass and felt her wrap one leg around me and push her pussy against me again. We finally broke for air and then went right back to deep-tonguing each other as we filled our hands each other's bodies.
Without paying any attention to the music we danced each other towards the sofa in the living room. When we reached the sofa I unzipped the back or her dress and slid it off her shoulders, pushed her gently back so she sat down on the couch, and knelt in front of her. I pulled the dress forward and pulled her arms out of it so her lacy black bra, full of soft, warm tit was exposed. I nuzzled her boobs, gently biting the swollen nipples through the material of the bra. She sighed and slid the straps off her shoulders, off her arms, rotated the bra, unsnapped it and tossed it to one side, exposing full tits with big, red, hardened nipples that pointed in my direction. "Please lick me," she said in a voice thick with desire.
How could I refuse? I leaned for ward and began giving my full oral attention to her aureole and nipples. I spent a lot of time on her nipples, licking and nibbling slowly because I could feel by the way she squirmed under me that she was getting more and more excited. I wanted her so hot that the second I put my tongue in her cunt she would explode in passion. I wanted her to come all over my face. I wanted her pussy juiced to run into my mouth. And so I slowly gently, teased her nipples with my mouth.
