Ok, the scene has been set, the characters established, both parties' needs are clear and the game is ready to start. Let's turn up the sexual volume!
++
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 another, 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 sixties, 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 Alan 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 A?" I said, as I did up a few of the buttons on my blouse and put the pashmena 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 Alan, we're in a man's world here."
We wandered out of the club into the hustle and bustle of Wellington Street.
"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 Sammi," 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 pashmena. "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.
"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 pashmena from round my neck and said.
"Well you can look at them again now Alan."
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.
+++++
My cock was aching. Aching with arousal, aching with lust, aching with excitement. Aching with the need to fuck.
I had decided some hours earlier that I wanted this young woman, 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 sixty-year-old body would be a turn off for someone as young and attractive as you.
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, 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 another 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 – her/their mouths on your pussy, those wonderful tits, oh fuck!
Oh God, if I didn't do something about my cock soon, the mind wanks you were invoking in me would bring on an orgasm without the need for any other stimulation. And the sight of you in this secluded alley, those Sammi-cum-to-bed eyes glinting at me as you leant back against the plate glass of the office doors and exposed your tits again.
For a few seconds, I struggled with myself. I wanted to yank my trousers open, expose myself. I wanted to grab your blonde hair and force you to your knees, experience the feel of your mouth on my hardness. I wanted to rip that thong in half, spread your legs and jam myself inside you.
I wasn't aroused – I was beyond arousal.
What stopped me from doing any of those things was partly respect for you. I've never forced myself on anyone, though I had an almost definite certainty that either action would be welcome to you, too – would enhance your arousal as well as mine.
But what really held me back was my age. Okay, maybe my body couldn't compete with the sort of young bucks you were used to. But perhaps the way I could give you pleasure, could?
Until either of us decided otherwise, this was all about your pleasure before mine.
Actually, that wasn't quite true. Because giving pleasure can be such a turn on, the moans of a woman being more arousing than your own, the sound of a woman cumming on your cock, tongue or fingers almost as wonderful as the moment she coaxes your manjuice from you.
God, was I in verbal bollocksville again? Time for action!
I closed in on you as you leant back against the window, my hands finding your tits at the same time as my lips found your mouth. I stroked your twin beauties, caressed them, kneaded them, my fingers pulling on the nipples that demanded attention. God, they were as hard as my cock!
They were by no means big tits, B cups probably, in fact looking at them now, they were really quite small, but they looked good and felt fucking incredible.
You moaned into my mouth and I grunted into yours. Our lips fought. But as passionate as it was, this wasn't a quick kiss I was after.
My hands left your tits to take hold of your wrists, pulling your hands above your head and holding them there as I ground my hardness into your pussy. Our heads tilted at an angle as one set of lips forced the other into position, allowing our tongues to flicker against each other like candle flames in a soft breeze.
