"Layla, what's taking you so long, you're dirty old man is waiting for you!"
I was delighted with his insistence, Stephen was obviously rested and prepared to carry on. I had to admire his tenacity, his absolute willingness to please me with every ounce of strength he had.
Admittedly, he very nearly drained me, in more ways than I could, or would, have imagined. Never, would I even suggest that he had just about worn me out, how could I?
Lying on my bed was a man some thirty -four years my senior, and he possessed seemingly untapped stores of astonishing vigor, not to mention an overflowing desire to please. Suggesting to him that he nearly obliterated every ounce of my vivacity might have given him the impression that I couldn't handle him, that was something I would by no means concede. I prided myself on my limitless cache of fortitude and stamina.
Honestly, is there a woman alive who would turn away or refuse a man who was so enthusiastic? This woman definitely wouldn't, not in a heartbeat.
I took a quick look in the mirror, my reflection assured me I was more than ready for him. Refreshed from a hot shower, my mind and body was once again restored to its ultimate state of want and eagerness. A few drops of spicy perfume, in strategic places, I wrapped myself in a warm fluffy towel. Of course I could have strolled out completely naked and presented him an expected treat, what fun would that be? I thought he'd appreciate a little touch of unpredictable seduction and I admit I enjoyed the thought of being a bit of a tease. Prompting him to ask me to drop the towel, a slow reveal so to speak, would certainly excite him.
Quietly stealing into my bedroom, hoping to witness his reaction to what he'd found in the toy chest I had to stop and chuckle. There was a very dirty old man enthusiastically rifling through my secretive drawer of delights. He was muttering excitedly and was certainly elated, thoroughly engrossed in his task.
Stephen's initial reaction to my confirming his notion that I did have a stash of erotic play things mimicked a child waking up on Christmas morning, eyes wide with expectation. I stood silently and watched him choosing his personal wealth of amusement. Each and every highly suggestive toy was handled, studied, and no doubt carefully chosen to provide maximum deviant adventure for him and satiating bliss for me. Stephen was so engrossed in his picking and planning that he didn't realize I was watching him. The lustful randy smile on his face was precious. With his array of riches before him, ready to commence the actual playing he called to me.
"Little lady, have I got a game plan for your sweet honey makin machine. I just knew a hot number like you would have everything I ever dreamed about in her secret toy box. I'm gonna get up here and go take care of a few things in the bathroom, gotta get myself good and ready for an uninterrupted excellent adventure. Jesus what a ride this is gonna be."
"I'd say you've already had a fortuitous ride today, wouldn't you?" I had to ask the question even though the answer would be obvious.
"There you are, I was beginning to think you might have ran out the door, maybe I'm more than you can handle?" It was more of a statement than a question. The broad smile on his aged and wrinkled face was proof positive he was looking for an affirmative response. My acknowledgement that he should be pretty proud of his performance, that he still had it, the justified praise was what he needed and I was only too happy to provide him a truthfully encouraging answer. This was a genuine opportunity to reinforce his confidence.
"I would have had to be taken by force, kicking and screaming to be kept away from you old man! I have a living, breathing, ready to please, private, personal sex maniac right here, why would I even consider sneaking away with that perfect tongue ready to create magic?"
He turned towards me, a gratuitous, self-assured, confident shake of his head, a leering, luscious smirk on his face. I had given him just what he needed.
A few simple, well deserved compliments and he was the man he believed he was. I've often said, and honestly believe, older men are the ultimate consummate gift to every woman who truly enjoys the decadence of satisfying lust.
"Little lady, you haven't even come close to magic! Hey, why you all covered up?" Obviously he expected me to be completely at his disposal, nothing to stand in his way or prevent his mouth from instant application.
"It's chilly in here. The only thing I want perking up these sweet nipples is your hot hungry mouth." I swear, his chest puffed out like a cock walking through the hen house. I loved it!
"In my wildest dreams I could have never imagined getting on that bus and coming home with you. Hell, I never dreamed I'd go home with anything but a lousy can of coffee. Either I did something awful worthy in my life, or the Good Lord is about to take me and figured I deserved one last trip to glory in this life. Give me a few minutes and I'll be right back?" I felt the swift cool breeze as he literally ran passed me.
"You take your time old man; trust me, I'm not going anywhere." I was selfishly thinking, not on your sweet life.
If I'd known that public transportation had benefits like this, I'd have gotten on that bus long before a snow storm forced me to. I thought I should send a letter of thanks to the local highway department for depositing all that snow into my driveway. Thank God for snowplows, thank you for old men who drink coffee.
Looking on the bed I could see a treasure trove of amusement just waiting for me. Every self-respecting connoisseur of sexual pleasure would be remiss if she didn't have a complete and varied toy chest. A devilish, deviously wicked thought crossed my mind as I surveyed Stephens choices.
Loving and luxuriating in French Lace lingerie is something that feeds a craving in me. I adore the sensation I feel with that exquisiteness touching my body. At those times when there are no tender hands, a tantalizing tongue to evoke sensual desires, my lace will always serve.
While my lingerie is seductive and sensual, there is another consideration. There's the overtly suggestive lingerie that leaves no question in the mind of my lover as to what my intentions, my expectations, really are. There was absolutely no question concerning Stephens intentions either, so let's give him yet another thrill of a lifetime. The drawer below my toy chest held that surefire excitement.
A man or woman who has a particular desire, a fetish of any nature. should be enticed to delight in it. For me personally, that doesn't include overt pain or humiliation. I'm not condemning those needs, I wouldn't, it's not for me to pass judgment on any one. My belief is that two consenting adults, or more, if that's the case, have the right to any sexual pleasure sought after as long as they agree.
I admittedly appreciate a man who is inclined to nourish his personal cravings by orally pleasuring me. The stronger and more robust his voracious appetite, the hungrier he is to get his just desserts, his preferred delicious dish, the better. I've often spent hours in the mouth of a man who could happily spend hours between my legs. I know ... you thought I'd say arms ... no ... I said exactly what I intended to say. Lying on a comfortable soft bed, lazing in a cushy chair, my legs open, inviting the man of the moment, to graze, so delectably decadent. Seeing his head buried between my thighs, darting tongue, eager lips, his awesome mouth savoring me, tasting, licking, teasing, lavishing my body with his own distinct technique, heavenly, you could say paradise. I digress, forgive me. Where was I? Oh yes, my special little cache of wickedness.
My secret fancies and various other pieces of evocative lingerie was exactly what I thought would be a just reward for Stephen. Having provided me with untold bliss, with the expectation, that in his words, a dream of a lifetime was about to come true it would seem fitting to return an additional, quite unexpected, joyful surprise to my dirty old man.
I cherry-picked a few exceptionally inspiring pieces and put them on. I don't mind confessing, seeing myself adorned in my naughty gems was quite arousing.
If my intuition, in relation to what I believed would thrill Stephen, electrify his primal desires, was on target, these little embellishments would be very inviting, absolutely engaging. I covered my decadently gift-wrapped curves with a sexy black silk robe, I wanted to torment him, just a little.
Stephen hobbled back into my den of iniquity, those poor legs barely carrying him. He looked kind of sweet toddling about in his baggy shorts and oversize tee shirt. Necessity as they say, will create a multitude of solutions. Being somewhat agile, there were certainly no limitations in my ability to provide him with easy and comfortable access to all of me. I wanted him to have complete freedom to enjoy every inch of me.
"Hey, why are you still all covered up? The thrill is only thrilling when I get to see what excites me?"
"Well, my dirty old man, you have an imagination don't you?" That was actually a misleading question. I wanted him to do more than imagine.
"Maybe I have a little surprise for you?" I wanted him to expect something he'd perhaps only dreamed about. I was truthfully enjoying this.
