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MATURE SEX

The Reading 1

The Reading 1

by bobhardcastle
12 min read
4.13 (6600 views)
adultfiction

T his is a self-contained one-off story. It's perhaps not as prolonged and hardcore as some might like, but I'm happy to finish a story with some of the action still to come and left to the reader's imagination.

I'm a mainstream author, so I don't write "blow by blow" suck- and - fuckfests accounts of sexual acrobatics. If that is what you're looking for, perhaps move on... there's plenty of other 'stories' on here to give you that.

As with all of these, All Rights are Reserved by the Author, except for the (limited) rights given herein to Literotica. Any other Reproduction, in part or in whole, will be prosecuted.

I both love... and hate, doing Readings from my work. It's kind of part of the job being an Author though. Sometimes the crowd β€” well, audience... readers β€” is admiring, and then sometimes they give me no idea whether I've

got

them (interested) or not. I never know till the end sometimes, when the questions start getting asked, or the books start getting sold.

And in almost every audience, there appears to be a groupie. Whether she's (usually a she, but sometimes a he) is actually interested in my books, me or just 'being seen with an Author.

If she's cute or beautiful, I don't mind. But the one that walked up to me now, looked to be all of twenty,

may

be twenty-one. Dangerous territory for me to flirt my way into.

This one was on the 'quirky' side. She extended her hand. "Hi. I"m Charlene, but my friends call me Carl."

Ok

, I thought.

"Carl," I said with an obvious reaction. "Strangeβ€”"

"Well, they started calling me Charl, but then they wanted to get weird, so... Carl."

She was on the 'big girl' side, but was more rolly polly than chunky. "I see. So Carl. Are you a writer or a reader?" I asked her, with a catch in my voice. Did I really want to engage someone so young?

"I want to be a writer. Well, and I'm a reader, of course. Too, I mean."

Umm hmmm. "So do you want to be a writer? Or do you Want to be a Writer?"

"What's the difference?" she asked, her confidence from before fading quickly.

"Well, the first is you maybe sorta kinda have the idea that you 'wanna be a writer.' But you have no idea what you want to write. You just like the idea."

"And?" she asked, giving me a strange look.

"The second is you truly want to be a writer, have some ideas, but are struggling to get them down on paper or finished. One's vanity, and the other's a struggle. Right?"

She stood there and chewed on her lower lip for a few seconds, looking vacantly down at the floor... Until she focussed on my crotch. That got her looking hard.

Not that I was erect or anything. She was just looking. And then she giggled. "What?" I asked her, expecting her to shy away and rejoin her friend.

"Would you... I mean, could you... help me? Write, I mean?"

She was kind of cute, in a bubbly but not quite even pretty way, but I could see myself getting in trouble with this one. I was, after all, the adult here. I didn't need to get involved with a teenaged groupie.

"I know I'm not supposed to ask, but... How old are you?" I asked her, knowing that thing about not asking a woman her age was mainly for the 'older set.'

"Old enough," was her cute, but flirty answer. She kind of tilted her head, and gave me a flirty look out from under her eyelashes.

"No. I mean, really. You know how old I am?"

"Ummmβ€”"

"Old enough to be your father. If not older."

She looked up at me with a more adult, hungry look, and said, "I know."

My mind was flashing 'Danger!' at this kind of knowing look she was giving me now. She didn't look old enough that I could trust that whatever age she told me would be the right one. And I hated "carding' women. And if I had to "card her..."

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"And... That's all right with you." Statement. I wasn't going to let it go any further than that.

"I'm twenty-six. Old enough to know better."

Uh, huh. Not a good sign. 'I'm mature!' her words screamed at me. Her look did anything but.

"Don't you want to spend more time with your friend?" I asked, nodding in her shy and much younger looking friends direction. Her friend looked like she wanted to talk to me, but also somehow knew better than to. Carl, however, did not.

Luckily at that point, Caitlyn the manager was gesturing me over towards the checkout area. "Sorry," I told Carl. "Time to do business," and moved away.

Looking back over my shoulder as I did, I saw 'Carl' and her friend having a rather heated discussion, with both of them looking at me with 'looks.'

When I was done with dealing with the finances with Caitlyn, I was hoping to turn around and find the two of them were gone. But... No. Charlene was still there, and looking on the schoolgirl giddy side. Great. Why couldn't one of the women closer to my age have decided to monopolize my time?

I began walking towards the front door, preparing to leave. As I opened the door, I quickly found Charlene β€” I just couldn't find it in me to call her Carl β€” by my side and walking out 'with me.' as if we were already lovers, and she had waited to leave when I did.

"Where are you parked?" I asked her, hoping to end this quickly.

"Oh, I didn't," she said with a smirk. "I take the bus."

Great. "Can I drop you anywhere?" I asked benevolently.

"At my apartment," she said, with a knowing look through those eyelashes again, once more playing the femme fatale. Not good at her age. And I didn't really want to take advantage of her, although I was getting the impression that she really wanted me to 'take advantage' of her.

Sighing, I kept on walking, her keeping up beside me.

I was hoping that when she saw my old beater at the curb, she'd get the fast impression that I wasn't one of those rich and famous authors, and 'cut me loose.' But she didn't. She went to the passengers door and waited expectantly for me to come up and open it.

"Aren't you going to be a gentleman?" she asked me, swaying back and forth like the little girl she actually was. When I walked up to open the door for her, she reached around and grabbed and fondled my ass. Not a little girl now. "I like what I see," she leaned in and whispered. "Isn't that enough?"

I made the mistake of turning toward her and reaching to now grab at her hand. She let my ass go, and reached for my crotch next. "I have handles in all the right places," she whispered lustily in my ear. "Just right for grabbing. And pushing." And then she did the completely unexpected and licked my ear lobe.

"Just imagine where my tongue could really go." From 'little girl' to succubus demon. This was

not

going to work. I wasn't even attracted to her. Go with free nookie and then ghost her? Is this what my life had sunk to?

I raised my hands, grabbed her face by her cheeks, and leaned in myself. "I'm almost forty years older than you are. Did your daddy or uncle pop your cherry?" If I couldn't get her to lunge away at this, I was a goner.

She gave me a nasty look, and said with a scowl, "Next door neighbor. As soon as I was legal."

"I see. And how old wasβ€”"

"Somewhere in his forties. He sorta knew what and how. I was tired of waiting."

"So he gave you a taste of older men."

"Something like that. And I also read both of your books already. You write like you seem to know how to please a woman." She was now looking a little older, and a

little

more mature... but not by much.

"When was the last time you fucked your neighbor?" I asked, working to pour on the nasty now. I still didn't want to take this girl home and have her seduce me into bed. My mind just kept screaming 'too young!' at me.

So, I take her home. I don't get out of the car, mush less go any further. Uh, huh.

"Here we are!" she said triumphantly. And then pouring the pout on once again, "Aren't you going to walk me to my door?" she asked with a a little girl sing song in her voice.

"This wasn't exactly a date, Charlene. Isn't your building safe?"

"I just want to spend more time in your scintillating company. That's all." And she batted those eyelashes again. 'Scintillating,' eh?

"Aren't your roommates home?"

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"Room mate. Emily. You saw her at theβ€”"

"So why didn't you let me give her a ride home too?"

"Oh. she went to her boyfriend's house for the night." Remembering the much younger than Charlene girl she was with, she hadn't looked like she was old enough to have a...

I sighed and then went around to the passengers side door and opened it, resigned to the idea that I would at least get her to her door.

Once we were there, I could have hit myself on the4 head. "You arranged this, didn't you?" I asked her point blank. But before she answered me, she had the door open, had grabbed be by my shirt and pulled me inside. Once I was there, she used my body to slam the door shut, and she pretty much mauled me with her first kiss.

It was sloppy, but it was passionate, I'll give her that. And before I knew it, she had me unbuckled and unzipped, and my pants were hitting the floor. She dropped to her knees and wrangled my cock out and had it in her mouth before I could grab her and pull her up.

She sunk me into her mouth and began giving me a rough blow job that had me grabbing her by her hair in seconds. She was sloppy, but she was intent on making me not want her to stop. She had me moaning and groaning in seconds, with a strained, "Oh, God!"

While I was recovering, barely standing there, she had her pants and panties off, and turned away from me and began rubbing her dripping pussy against my soft, but already responding member.

"Ummmm. You have protection. Yes?"

"I'm on the pill, stupid. Have been for years." Great. What was I going to catch? "But I'm clean. No worries."

I was pretty much back in the erect category, and I was popping into her and began pounding her as hard as I could, grabbing those pre-advertized 'love handles.' I reached around and unbuttoned her flannel shirt, and had it off as fast as I could. Her bra went next, and I grabbed on to her nice c-sized tits and used them for leverage for my pushing and pulling.

Charlene was panting and doing variations of "Oh, my God!" and "Oh, shit!" as she was bouncing back on me as hard as I was pounding her. It didn't take long for the both of us to come, screaming and breathing quite hard.

After a few minutes, she laughed amid her pants. "Not bad for a little girl. Am I?"

I grabbed onto her fleshy rolls around her hips and rubbed myself up and down over her dripping oven mitt and raging clit. I used my right hand to reach around and began rubbing that clit a little, when she was back to panting and shouting more clipped "Oh, God"s and "Yeah! Right There!"s. And, "Oh, my God. I'm Commmmming again!"

Moments later, she slumped down to the floor and got herself up on her knees. She had me back in her mouth in a heartbeat, and was sucking me back to a hard one. Yet again.

"Stop," I groaned. "I'm not a young man! I can't keep on going, and going, and..."

I reached down to pull her up to look at her. "Well. This was unexpected," I got out, in between pants and groans.

She smiled a seductive smile, and asked me in a sultry voice, "You like?"

"Yes," I said, "But I'm too old for you to think of me as anything other than a one night stand."

"What? I'm not old enough for you?"

"Not quite. People would think I was banging my daughter."

"Do you have a daughter?"

"Yes. And older than you are. Soβ€”"

"Really?" she said suddenly. "Cause I don't recall reading that you had any children." Shit. Busted.

"You're still not... You're still too youngβ€”"

"Don't you want a hot biscuit to butter up, at least every once in a while?" she asked me with a giggle. Hot bisβ€” What the hell?

"I'll loose weight. I'll grow into an acceptable age. Iβ€” I just want to be with you. Please?"

β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”

So. I had a girlfriend, but I didn't have a girlfriend.

Yes, she lost some of her 'baby fat' by joining to a gym and dieting. And yes, she got to the point where, with the help of a little bit of makeup she began to look 'old enough' for me to date. I dressed her better, less tomboy and more woman-like, and we could go out on 'real dates.'

Five years later (and after books three and four were out and doing better), she did eventually move in with me. She was looking far different from the "Carl" that I first met. She wanted me to introduce her as Charlemena, and I eventually got used to that.

We never got married. She grew in ways that made her argumentative, and we eventually agreed to go our separate ways. She then met and fell in love with a guy her own age, and I eventually found a woman my own age to grow old with. We weren't quite the passionate lovers that Charlene and I had been, but that was ok.

She even named her first son after me. Benjamin. Her husband was more than accepting of that, after how I'd prepared her for him. And we all lived happily ever after. Just not together.

Now That is not a usual ending for one of my stories. But hey...

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