THE OPALS CLUB The 'Older People Actively Loving Sex' Club
Yes, you have to read Chapter 1 to fully understand who's who and what's happening in this final chapter."
* * * * *
I slept in Bill's arms with him kissing me occasionally as we dozed. We made love twice in the middle of the night. This time I rode him until we both came again. Bill understood a woman's body, and how to make it sing. I felt like I'd sung a major opera by the time my eyes fluttered open in the morning. I probably looked a mess -- hair, make up, and my pasty body color. I must get more of a tan. Maybe Megan would go to the beach with me. Then again, maybe I should get an all-over tan at a tanning salon, or a mix of spray on tan and sun. I want to look good.
Bill was gone from the bed. Across the bed next to me lay a beautiful red robe, short but not too revealing depending on how I tied it. I put the robe on so it was partway in between conservative and scandalous, and walked into the core of the house. I smelled the aroma of coffee coming from the kitchen.
Bill was puttering around the kitchen assembling some breakfast. He wore swim trunks. He saw me, smiled broadly, and came and hugged me to him. We kissed. I said, "Oh, dear. I probably have morning breath, and ... my clothes." I looked back in the living room.
Bill led me back to the master bedroom. My clothes were neatly arranged on a chair, and I'd missed them when I got up. He took me into the bathroom, and showed me a second vanity sink area replete with a wide spectrum of women's cosmetics. He said, "The shower has several kinds of shampoo and conditioner. There's a hair dryer in that drawer. The towel next to the shower is clean. Please make yourself at home. Oh, the toothbrush is new too."
I smiled at Bill as I kissed him on the cheek again. I realized how thoughtful he was of his female guests to have assembled this array for them. Just hearing his list of things, made me resolve to put a similar masculine package together for my male guests. I sure hope I got into this Club.
Bill said, "Before you do anything, however, I have a small pool in the backyard. Please join me for a morning swim if you're up to it." He looked hopeful.
I said, "Bathing suit."
He laughed and said, "No one can see and I skinny dip, but if you want one ... here. He reached into a drawer just outside the bedroom and produced a bikini." He said, "I'll be outside. Join me when you're ready."
As he walked away, I saw him start to pull down his bathing trunks. He intended to skinny dip.
A minute later after brushing my teeth to kill my morning breath, I stood naked beside the pool and watched the lustful look in Bill's eyes as he appraised my body. This was a big step for me in so many ways. I'd never skinny dipped in my life. I was naked in the bright light of day in front of a male I only met the night before -- and I was coming up on sixty years of age. My body was pasty white and my crotch was filled with a dark mat of brunette hair with a generous smattering of white pubic hair that betrayed my age bracket. Moreover, I felt wet, and knew that I had cum -- his and mine -- leaking from inside me.
I jumped in, and let out a shriek at the feel of the cool water. When I floated to the top of the water, Bill was laughing.
I floated over to Bill and we kissed and made out for a while. I could feel his cock swell against my abdomen as we necked. My God, why hadn't I started kissing this man years ago? Just a couple of minutes of kissing him again, and my blood was boiling. After five minutes of this, Bill said, "I'd love to make love to you again."
"Then why don't you. I want that too." I pulled him towards the pool stairs.
We spent the rest of the morning in his large bed fucking and cooing sweet nothings to each other. Even as active as Garth and I had been, I hadn't done anything like this since our honeymoon.
Bill drove me home just before noon. We kissed goodbye, and both of us said all the right words about getting together again sometime soon. Talk about chemistry; I think we were like nitroglycerine and had detonated together several times over the past fourteen hours.
As soon as I got inside my door, I immediately called Megan; she was ringing my doorbell at twelve-twenty. I'm embarrassed to admit that we tittered like schoolgirls about our 'nights out.' For the first time in my life I both listened to Megan's stroke-by-stroke description of her night with Gary, and gave a stroke-by-stroke description of my time with Bill. By the time we were finished, I was horny all over again. I could have fucked a doorknob.
As we talked I tried to recall all the questions about the Club and dating decorum that kept popping up in my head the night before. When I remembered them, they were all pretty intimate, but I started in on them anyway. After talking about how we both fucked the night and morning away, I felt some sense of privilege. In the wide-open discussion we had, I learned that Megan did wear thongs on her dates because they were sexy, but normally she wore frilly Victoria Secret lingerie that made her feel very feminine. She recommended black or red 'date' underwear because the colors telegraphed 'sex.' She told me it had taken her a month to get used to the butt floss. She did do anal sex, but rarely. She praised a couple of men for their careful attention to her needs in that area.
Megan admitted to being perpetually horny, even using the term 'nymphomaniac' to describe herself, and this for a woman of sixty-two. I had that to look forward to in four years. She said that before the Club, she felt pent up and repressed, but now she felt like someone had opened her up and given her freedom.
I asked her how often she went on dates, and she surprised me by explaining that she did 'something' with 'somebody' about four or five times a week, but it was rarely the same 'somebody' day after day. She said, "I have a long and growing list of guys that I like to do booty calls with, or vice versa. Just so you're not surprised, Bill is one of them. We please each other sometimes with a noontime drop in and fuck, or a night of lovemaking. I love sex. Did I say that already?" Megan laughed.
I explained that I'd taken the initiative to get things going with Bill, and asked if that was acceptable. Megan laughed and explained it was more than acceptable; it was the preferred method of starting the ball rolling. "The men in our Club are all real gentlemen; they don't want to impose on the women. Thus, they hold back a little too much in my opinion; they wait for signals or words from us that we want to get started. Oh, left long enough they'll try something, but I don't have the patience. When I want to get laid, I want a cock in my pussy 'right now!'"
"Do you use dirty talk?"