I wasn't surprised that I woke before she did. She had been pretty exhausted when we finally went to sleep. I eased out of bed, went into the bathroom, peed, and then washed my hands, letting the water run to get hot while I went downstairs and got one of her mixing bowls out of the kitchen.
Back upstairs, I filled the bowl with hot water and put a washcloth in it. I figured I'd need to at least wash her eyes when she woke.
I slipped back into bed and watched her sleep for a while.
Oh my goodness, she WAS a mess. Her hair was matted with dried semen and her face was covered in a crust of it. Patches of the white crust were on her boobs and her belly. Her pussy was still leaking a little and I couldn't help but chuckle when I saw the crust on the top of her feet. Her mouth was open slightly, with a faint smile, and she was snoring. The line from the Willie Nelson and Merle Haggard song flashed through my mind - your breath as hard as kerosene.
I was mildly surprised at how quickly I sprang erect.
I wanted her. Hell, I wanted her very badly. But I let her sleep, enjoying watching.
She was still deeply asleep, though, so I snuck out of bed again and padded down to the kitchen, fired up the Keurig machine, and made a couple of cups of coffee.
I passed the steaming cup under her nose, letting the aroma of fresh coffee wake her.
When she started to stir I got the warm, wet washcloth out of the bowl and began gently wiping her eyes, first to soften the crust and then to clean it.
She pulled away from the cloth but I cushioned her head in my palm and said, "easy, it's me, honey, relax, let me get your eyes clear."
She stopped pulling away, and I continued to gently clear her eyes.
When they blinked open and met mine she smiled.
"Thank you," she said.
I grinned and kissed her crusty lips.
"You're quite welcome," I said.
"See," I said, "I told you they'd all love you."
Her giggle turned into laughter, a bit hysterical I thought.
"David," she said when she got herself under control, "that wasn't love."
I chuckled and said, "well, okay, I told you they'd all lust after you."
She grabbed me around the neck and kissed me, hard, almost desperately.
"Thank you," she said, very softly, almost a whisper, "thank you, thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou."
So I kissed her again and said, "you're welcome."
"David," she said, "I never IMAGINED anything like that."
I kissed her again.
"Did you like it, then?" I asked.
"I ADORED it," she said.
She rolled out of bed showing that oddly athletic ability she sometimes did, avoided my grab, and headed for the bathroom.
So I followed her and kissed her while she peed.
She grinned and reached up, wrapped her arms around my neck, and kissed me, hard, while the smell told me it was more than peeing she was doing.
She held me like that, and she had all the leverage, I had no chance of getting away without hurting her and I wasn't going to do that, so I held the kiss, enjoying, as they say, the inevitable.
She giggled when she was done and released me.
"You're right," she said
"About what?" I asked.
She flashed that feral grin she did sometimes, and said, "it IS a very special intimacy."
She leaned back and spread her legs.
"Now wipe me, honey, front to back," she said.
I chuckled and did it. It IS a very special intimacy.
"Now," she said, standing, "I'm going to brush my teeth and take you to bed."
She stopped in front of the vanity mirror and just looked.
"Jesus," she breathed very quietly, her fingertips tracing the crusty mask of her face, touching the patches on boobs and belly, lifting her stiff hair and letting it fall.
I put my hands on her hips, nuzzled her neck, and whispered, "you're gorgeous."
She picked at the spot of crust on her breast, just above the nipple, staring at herself.
"Don't hate me," she said, as she had last night.
"Marie," I said, my hands very light on her arms, "I love you. I'm proud of you. Hell, I'll marry you if you'll say yes. Anndddd, I'll take you back to the Corps any time you want."
She held my eyes for a moment in the mirror and then loaded her toothbrush and carefully brushed her teeth. She was quite proud of the fact that they were her own teeth and she worked hard to keep them.
"Please don't make me shower," she said and I laughed.
"And here I was thinking I wouldn't allow you to shower today," I said.
She threw her arms around me and kissed me.
"Take me to bed and fuck me like a whore and then take me to breakfast," she said.
And here I thought I was beyond being surprised.
"Take you to breakfast?" I asked.
She giggled and said, "well, we'll need to go a few towns away of course, but yes. Show the world what you've made me."
"I see," I said, "and in your fantasy, what kind of whore are you? A well-compensated companion or a streetwalker trying to turn a dozen tricks a night?"
She smiled up at me and said, "only a dozen?"
I laughed then and said, "no need for a bed then. Down on all fours."
She got down on the floor of the bathroom then, on all fours, back arched, ass wiggling.
"Dealer's choice, baby," she said.
She was still leaking semen from her pussy and her asshole after last night. So I got down on my knees behind her and took her, swapping holes with each thrust, pussy, ass, pussy, ass, enjoying her soft grunting sound each time I entered her anally followed by a softly hissed "yesssssss" when I entered her vaginally.
This wasn't making love, as we often did. This was pure fucking. I normally have good control and since it had been less than six hours since the last time I had ejaculated I lasted nicely this morning.
But she didn't.
She was cumming within a couple of minutes and then cumming in waves.
"Marry me," I said.
"No, baby," she said, well, she sort of grunted.
I had a double handful of saddlebags and I was thrusting hard by then.
"Marry me," I said again.
"No, baby," she said, "you'll be wanting children and I can't give them to you."
I kissed her and laughed.
"Well, will you at least wet nurse my children," I said and that made her laugh too.
"Of course, I would," she said.
Something about that image, married, with a baby, but Marie as a wet nurse and available for, well, "other services" got to me.
I came, hissing my release and she dug her fingers into the rug, kicked her legs, and came right along with me.
"You really want me to take you out like this," I asked, my fingertips tracing the crust on her cheek and in her hair.
"David," she said, meeting my eyes and holding them, quite serious now, "are you ashamed of me?"
I kissed her again and said, "Marie, I'm proud of you, always."
I played with her tits for a while and added, "I'm just surprised you want to show off."
She smiled and said, "wellllllllllll, I'm starved. I used a LOT of energy last night."
I touched her belly and said, "and this morning too," making her giggle.
"Okay," I said, rolling out of the bed, "let's go to," and I stopped and thought, "Bennett for breakfast."
Bennett was another small town, about 40 miles away, with Flagler, another small town, between it and us. I figured that would be enough distance to protect her reputation.
I peed and brushed my teeth, washed my face, sprayed on some deodorant, and went to the closet to see what she had that would be appropriate breakfast wear.
I selected yellow as morning wear.
This was the first outfit I had bought her, and it remained one of my favorites. The top was more "bib" than "blouse." A two-inch wide turtleneck was held by two buttons. Her front was covered completely by the bright material with two strings, one at her waist and one at her shoulder blades. A pair of panties of a matching color was mostly a net material with a small triangle. The skirt was almost knee length with a contrasting very red fringe that hung past her knees and swayed nicely whenever she moved. Yellow pumps, not exaggerated stiletto heels but simple pumps, completed the ensemble.
When she was dressed I had her do a slow turn and inspected her.
Her hair was thick with dried semen, making it hang lank. Her face was covered, only her eyes and lips clear, the crust cracking when she smiled or laughed. When she turned I saw where they had cum on her back, leaving a thick puddle low on her back between the big ridges of muscle there, disappearing under the beltline of the skirt.
She looked exactly like what she was, a 72-year-old woman who had been the entertainment for a lot of men the night before.
I liked it.