NOTE: So, a little context with this one. I spent most of my 20s thinking that sex was all about banging the Hell out of someone until I got off. Plus, I was chasing after tiny white women, not having quite embraced my belief in “variety being the spice of life.” I was also frustrated with the dating sites due to my attracting multiple women in their late 30s or early 40s, many of whom making it clear that they were looking to settle down and have families. Being younger and more impulsive, I wasn’t quite ready for that stage of life, and I hadn’t quite picked up my attraction for mature woman just yet. However, a few conversations with some more mature women convinced me that meeting one or two might be worth the experience, both in terms of broadening my mind and learning a few things about sex. The following being one of my first experiences with a more mature woman and an interracial connection, as well.

I looked at my phone for what must’ve been the twentieth time since I sat down.

No missed texts or calls, and email was quiet.

The clear sky and sun streaming into the Starbucks belied how remarkably chilly it was outside, and while wearing my most comfortable-but-not-shabby-looking sweater kept me fairly warm, my hands and feet were still cold thanks to the shop’s less-than-ideal heating.

I picked a table off to the side with a good view of the front doors, and caught myself glancing at them every time I noticed something out of the corner of my eye or heard a sound from that direction. Although it was just after 11:00 AM on a Saturday morning, it wasn’t too busy – two people camped out at tables with their laptops, a pair of women chatting, another single patron looking at his phone who eventually got up and left.

She was slightly late without any call or text letting me know what was up. I began to wonder if one of the customers I didn’t pay attention to earlier was her and she left without recognizing me (I thought the picture I sent was recent and accurate enough), or decided to be a no show. I was new to the online thing and the whole experience seemed sketchy enough to maintain a healthy skepticism regarding meeting someone through one of those sites.

Finally, a shadow came across the door and I saw her walk in.

It was hard to tell much about her from the bulky coat she was wearing, but her face was bright and definitely looked like one of the pictures she sent me. Her complexion was lighter than what I thought – one picture was from some dinner event so the lighting was low, the other with a flash so it washed out everything. Her skin was completely smooth and brown – barely a wrinkle, freckle or mole. What threw me off was her hair was longer and styled in her pictures, but much shorter and gone natural now, with a streak or two of grey. She looked amazing for a woman of forty…something, but I felt a strong vibe that she was a little older…maybe closer to 50. Either way, she looked wonderful.

Without missing a beat she spotted me, smiled, and waved while going up to the counter to order something. A few minutes later she planted herself down at my table with a wide smile.

“Hellooooo,” she said in almost songlike voice. “I’m so sorry for being late, I misjudged my timing in getting here.”

I shook my head, “It’s okay, it’s only been a few minutes.”

“Good. I was worried you might not wait or get skittish.”

“No, I’m not that type.”

She smiled more and leaned in a little, putting her hand on mine, “I’m glad you stayed.”

“Do you do this a lot?” I asked.

She paused for a moment, “You mean, meet people from online?”

“Sure,” I replied.

She nodded, “I don’t make it a habit, but it isn’t my first time either.” She paused for a moment. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

I tried forcing myself to relax a little. “I haven’t met many from online. I’ve heard a few horror stories and it’s always a toss up about what to expect.”

“Oh, I know,” she said, “I’ve dodged a few strange ones, too.” Another pause. “But you’re not anxious about that, are you?

I think I blushed a little. “No, not about that.”

Her smile was beautiful and her eyes said go on.

“I’ve never tried meeting someone…more mature before…”

“And?” She laughed a little while taking a sip of her coffee.

I paused or a moment. “Just wondering what I have to offer someone who’s seen and knows more, and I want to be clear – this isn’t a ‘notch in my belt’ kind of thing.”

Here eyes stared at me over the cup of coffee.

“…that…and any racial stereotypes.”

“Funny,” she said, “You’d be amazed how fast white men do that before I even meet them.”

“Really?”

She nodded and rolled her eyes. “I must’ve gotten two dozen emails, and only three – including yours – didn’t call me ‘hot chocolate’ or ‘brown sugar’ or how they always wanted to be with a black woman.”

“What happened with the other two?” I asked.

“The what?”

“You said three responders.”

“Oh,” she said, taking another strategic sip of her coffee, “One admitted that he was married and the other was…not attractive to me. Then you…you were very polite, unassuming…and too cute to not meet.”

I debated asking the next question, but curiosity was killing me. “Do you try those posts a lot?”

Her smile faded slightly, her eyes squinting a little. “That was only the second time I’ve ever done that. I nearly didn’t.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I posted once a few months ago – received a A LOT of responses. Mostly idiots who were easy to filter out. All kinds of men, a few women, and even couples. All of them awkward or not what I wanted.”

“Did you meet any of them?”

She shook her head. “No one. I didn’t like any of the exchanges or the pics they sent…”

“Just not attractive or what you like?”

I think she blushed. “And too much anatomy.”

“Oh, okay.” I nodded, “What made you try it this time?”

Her smile grew back some. “I…I had a few glasses of wine in me and was in a mood. I thought maybe see what happens, but I planned on deleting the post when I got up in the next morning.”

I smiled, “Well, we’re here, a good sign, right?”

“Maybe,” she said and took her coat off.

If she was the age she claimed, it was hard to believe. She wore a long skirt that hid her legs, but a tight turtleneck sweater that clung to her like a second skin. Her slim neck gave way to slightly narrow shoulders, but a generous bust and a stomach that wasn’t flat, but perfectly curved – it worked with her build. Sort of a “little pooch” that’s incredibly sexy. It was chilly enough that I kept stopping myself from staring at her beautiful chest and clearly erect nipples pushing against her bra and sweater.

She took a sip of her coffee and leaned in, resting elbows on the table.

“So, what about you?”

“You mean about the posts and online meetings?”

She nodded.

“I was poking around because I was looking for cheap furniture for my place. Once I saw the Casual Encounters section, curiosity got the better of me.”

“And how many of those posts did you reply to?” Her eyes were warm and inviting, but I still felt as if she were assessing me, reading me for tells.

I contemplated my answer for a moment, certain that she was reading my mind. “Five – no, six.”

“Interesting. More than I thought you’d admit to…and?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“Only two wrote back, you and another.”

“How did I win out?”

Damn, her eyes were amazing.

“I liked our conversation, and I’m pretty sure the other one was actually a guy.”

She crooked her head, “Why’s that?”

“The pictures looked like they were too good – like from a clip art collection or someone’s MySpace page. They claimed they were 30 but the pics looked like some college co-ed. And they used more guy type language – kind of like a drunk frat boy.”

“I see,” she said, turning her cup with both hands. “Though that’s what I liked about your emails – you were actually polite and articulate compared to the others.”

“Maybe we just were in the right time and right place,” I said, still trying not to stare at her chest.

She sat back and stretched her arms, making her sweater tighter and harder for me to look somewhere else. I almost wondered if she was testing me. Admittedly, I liked what I was seeing, but couldn’t get a read on her.

“So,” she said after stretching, “You’ve never been with someone like me before.”

“Right.”

Her face looked more serious, but still welcoming. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

I smiled this time. “If I wasn’t, would I still be here?”

“You’d be surprised. I’ve ran into a few white men who were curious, but didn’t have the nerve to try.”

“Really?”

“Oh, so many talked me up online, but either ghosted me or wouldn’t commit to meeting. One man I saw running out of the bar we agreed to meet at, pretending he didn’t see me. Later he emailed me claiming he was sick and wasn’t there. Another told me on and on how he was completely intimidated by black women…as if we’re all scary. Really? We have hearts, minds, and the same lady parts.”

I nearly spat out my coffee but managed to laugh.

“Race wasn’t the issue – it’s never been an issue. My first crush in grade school was black.”

“But you’ve never been with one before?” she asked.

“Not yet.”

“Yet?”

I paused for a moment. “I don’t make assumptions.”

She smiled again. “That’s good.” She sat back, more relaxed. “You’re a bit mature for your age. Most white men, especially younger ones, think that just my responding to them means they’re getting a taste. After all of our interaction, you still recognize that nothing is promised.”

“I like to think I know a little better.”

“Certainly,” she said, eyes twinkling with her smile. “So, what about the age?”

“That…is also a new one for me.” I replied

Her eyes widened and a look of excitement burst across her face. “Am I the first older woman you’ve approached?”

“First I’ve met face to face, but not the first I’ve talked to.”

She almost glowed. “Oh! I was so hoping that was the case! What about the others?”

I looked down at my coffee cup then back at her. “I’m on some of the dating sites, and sometimes get winks and messages from older women. I was getting a little weirded out since their profiles say things like ‘ready to settle down’ or ‘have a family’ and I’m not even thirty yet.”

“You want to play the field.” She almost sounded cynical.

“No, yes…no, I want to enjoy life with someone before…big life changes.”

She put her hand on mine, “Take it from me,” she said. “Don’t be in a rush. I married right out of college and wish I hadn’t.”

“Was it bad?”

She looked contemplative. “He wasn’t a bad man. We were young and thought we had what we wanted. I was pregnant while we were both starting our careers and being broke all the time with two extra mouths to feed was a lot for us. Money is one of the reasons marriages fail and ours did big time.”

“I see.”

“It’s fine. We divorced when I was about – well, your age.”

I took a sip of coffee. “But you never remarried?”

“Thought about it with one boyfriend, I really wanted to with him, but when I found him cheating on me, that changed my mind about marriage.”

“I bet – how did you find out he was with another woman?”

She paused. “It was another man. I got home early from work and they were…together in the living room.”

“Oh.”

She smiled and shook her head a little “I hate being disappointed by partners, but that stung – not because it was another man, but I had no clue he was even curious about men. It took a while to get over that and I learned to enjoy my independence. Once the kids were in their teens, it was easier to chase after things I wanted and make up for lost time with new experiences.”

“Does that include younger men?”

Her eyes flashed at me – this time she was the one possibly blushing. “Actually, most men I date are around my age. As for someone younger, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious…and a few fantasies. So far, you’re the third one I’ve ever met in person.”

I gave her a knowing stare.

She smiled a little, “Or been with.”

We spent some time confirming things we shared in our email exchanges – jobs, family and friends, hobbies and interests. I found her very approachable and easy to talk to. Her body language of leaning toward me, and gently touching or brushing my hand or arm gave me the impression that she was interested and attracted. The Starbucks was beginning to fill up with enough people that the background noise was making it hard to maintain a quiet conversation and still hear one another, and we both finished our drinks. I felt that we hit a natural stop.

“So,” I said, “What are you thinking?”

She looked me in the eye, “I’d rather know what’s on your mind.”

“I think it’s time to leave.”

“Together?” she asked.

“I…would consider that a good thing.”

“And you believe I’m interested, too?”

I leaned in closer so the people at the next table couldn’t hear, “Would you spend two hours talking to me just to walk away?”

“Maybe, what do you really think?”

Fuck it, go blunt with her. “I think you’ve thought about sleeping with me since we first traded pictures, because I know I have.”

“I see” she said, “And you’re not wrong.”

I paused for a moment, a bit amazed being direct didn’t end with me being slapped.

“Any ideas on next steps?” she asked.

“My place isn’t an option – my roommate . . and I wouldn’t presume about your home.”

“That’s smart.” She said.

I gestured out the window. “A hotel might work, if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m good with that.” she said.

With that, we got up, put our coats on and stepped outside into the still chilly air. We hopped into our cars and drove over to a hotel just down the street and parked, then met outside the entrance.

“I’ll go in and see about a room. You’re welcome to do that with me or – ”

“You go ahead and do that and I’ll walk in separately.” She replied. “I can’t imagine what the desk person will think seeing both of us asking for a room in the middle of the day.”

As I gave my information and debit card, I could see her wandering around the lobby pretending to be interested in the banal artwork on the walls. No one else was around and even the parking lot looked fairly empty so I half wondered if the desk clerk put two and two together about her and I. If they did, they didn’t show it or this happened often enough that they didn’t care.

Keycard in hand, I shuffled over toward the elevators, giving her a wink to follow.

A short ride up to the fourth floor and we found the room. It wasn’t anything exciting, a queen size bed, two chairs, a table and a dresser adorned with a TV.

As we took our coats off, she looked at me. “Could you get some ice and bottled water. I don’t know about you, but I may need some later.”

I grabbed the ice bucket and went down the hall to collect ice and the vending machines for some water. As I walked back, I realized that I forgot my keycard and knocked on the door.

“Hey, it’s me.” I said.

She cracked open the door with a smile and giggle, “But, I already gave at the office!”

She opened the door the rest of the way so I could walk in, and set the bucket next to the TV and water bottles in the not-keeping-anything-remotely-cool fridge. I glanced over at the chairs, now adorned with our coats, her boots and a small mound that I think was her pantyhose or leggings. The TV was on and she managed to find a music channel gently playing something smooth from the seventies and the drapes drawn open just enough to let some light in without reminding us too much that the sun was still up.

She curled up on the bed, legs under her, skirt draped all over and a more sly smile across her face.

I sat at the foot of the bed to take my socks and shoes off, feeling her creep up behind me, one arm draping over my shoulder so her hand could caress my chest. She gently bit my earlobe and traced my ear with the tip of her tongue.

“I hope you’re ready for this,” she whispered, her other arm wrapping around my stomach.

I turned my head toward hers, kissing as I leaned back onto the bed, then sliding up to match up with her as she flattened down next to me. Her smell was a mix of herself, some kind of floral perfume with a hint of musk, and whatever hair products she used. Her kisses were soft but quick, and I loved her plump lips against mine. Her hair was short, so I was thrown off from other women where I had to constantly wipe locks of hair out of the way. Her breasts pressed against me and felt wonderful. We laid there, kissing and heavy petting, and while I kept my hands above her waist, she already took the liberty of caressing my ass a few times.

She opened her mouth and our tongues touched. I cradled her head in my hands, tight and soft curls in my fingers as her tongue darted in and out while I circled hers with mine. Our breathing got heavier as we relaxed, enjoying the feel of each other. She drew a leg up between mine and let my hand slide down her back, past the thin bra strap, over the small of her back, and felt her ass. I didn’t feel much underneath the skirt, and felt myself get more aroused at the idea of her wearing a thong or nothing at all.

I tried kissing down her neck, but her sweater was in the way. She returned the favor and necked on me. She kissed my neck but didn’t suck on it, just feeling the tip of her tongue on my skin as her lips close on it. Her hands were thin but strong and tight against me, feeling every bit of me they touched.

I ran my hand across her hip and along her side, pausing for a moment as I reached her bust and took her breast in my hand. She tensed for just a moment and let out a slight moan, but quickly relaxed as I held her in my hand, gently massaging it. Unlike in the Starbucks, there wasn’t a pronounced nipple, but her breast fit nicely in my gentle grip.

We went back to kissing, this time deep, long slides of our tongues against and around each other, trying to explore inside as much as feel. Her one hand moved from my side to my stomach, then almost casually cradled my crotch, slowly and deliberately sliding up and down where I was clearly hard and getting more so. I tugged at her sweater, pulling it out from her skirt’s waistband and sliding my hand inside to feel her stomach. She had the stomach of a woman who gave birth but tried to maintain her figure, not flat but a perfect ring surrounding her navel. For whatever reason, I expected a bit of protests from her, but felt no resistance as I guided my hand up, feeling the frilly edge of her bra. Then the curve of her breast underneath and the definite bump of her nipple.

She pulled away from kissing and pulled off her sweater, then leaned back into kissing and rubbing between my legs. As I rolled on my back, her breasts brushed my stomach as she kissed down it and undoing my jeans. When her lips reached my waist she pulled my jeans and briefs off with a deliberate tug, giving me just enough play to kick them the rest of the way off as she traced the length of my cock with her tongue before taking it into her mouth.

Alternating between long and slow and quick jolts, she stroked the shaft with her free hand and her tongue felt even more amazing down there. I watched her for a moment or two, then relaxed and closed my eyes to enjoy it, a hand resting on the back of her head. She played with the tip a little with her tongue, then climbed back up on top of me, her skirt was off and my now wet cock pressed against her stomach. We kissed again, deep and I could taste a hint of myself on her. We rolled while I loosen and pulled off her bra as she rolled onto her back.

I slid my on hand into her panties and dove my fingers into her wet pussy. Hers was a wonderfully thick patch of hair to run my fingers through as I kissed down her chest and took my time licking and sucking on her breasts. She moaned out loud as I slid my fingers inside her, making my way down between her legs. Trading my tongue for my fingers, I licked her as if hungry. I explored every bit of her, tasting her as she got even more wet, and sliding my tongue in her to wiggle it. Moans became gasps and she latched both hands on my head as I ate her out. I traded between sucking and licking her clit then tonguing her pussy, then fingering her some more. She writhed in the bed, eyes closed, legs moving around with a life of their own.

I don’t remember if I spent more time going down on her than she did with me, but I began stroking myself as she finally arched her back, practically yelling as I knew she came. It was beautiful looking up and watching her breasts reach high as she arched her back, and I grabbed them with one hand as I rubbed her clit with the other. I climbed back up next to her, taking another moment to kiss and suck on her breast and still rubbing her clit as she spasmed from coming again. She grabbed my head and drew me in for a kiss, even licking my lips, tasting herself all over my face.

I laid down next to her, cock in hand, watching her settle down from her orgasmic high. Her hands drifted around the bed, feeling her every curve and touching her pussy as she calmed down.

“Oh . . . okay,” she said finally catching her breath. “You know what you’re doing down there.”

She kept rubbing herself and took my cock in her free hand, gently stroking it. She took the little bit of sticky pre-cum at the tip and rubbed it between her fingers, then went back to slowly stroking me. I was harder than ever.

Her breathing evened out and she seemed relaxed. She rolled on her side, ever so slightly opening her eyes to look at me, a tiny smile on her face and a slight nod of her head.

I reached over to the bedstand and grabbed a condom wrapper, ripped it open and began putting it on as she slowly pulled her hand away. Sure that it was on and ready, I got up as she spread her legs, knees bent and feet on the bed. She was still gently rubbing and feeling herself as I got between her thighs and guided myself to her with one hand. She closed her eyes as the tip touched her.

To my surprise, as worked up as I was, I didn’t fire off as soon as I slid into her. Even through the condom, she was hot, like on fire, and so slick that I almost couldn’t tell if she even felt me. She moaned and purred enough that I knew something was working, and took my time until I was pressed against her as much as possible. She felt amazing and her thighs tightened against me as I moved back and forth. I just wanted to pound into her, but resisted the urge and tried pacing myself, gradually increasing speed and force. I held her waist with both hands as I got more aggressive with my thrusts, and she grabbed my arms in return.

As we were fully into the moment, she wrapped her legs around me, her breasts bouncing wildly as I went in and out. She gasped aloud and yelled, making me want to go harder and faster. I don’t remember how long it was, just that I was going in and out of her and loving every moment of it. Her smell, her sounds, her body worked for me and I’d never felt sex like that with anyone before. One final hard thrust and I exploded, cumming so hard and half wondered if the damn condom broke. Her hands were like vises, latched onto me as she must’ve been cumming as well.

I tried to release myself out of her as we both relaxed, but she held onto me enough to remain inside until my cock softened in her. Finally, I slid out of her, condom barely hanging onto my cock as I got up, went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up, then went back and laid next to her.

We spend time in silence, holding each other, hold hands, feeling one another. Smiles and looking into each other’s eyes were all the “talking” we could manage. Eventually, she rolled onto her side with her back to me, and I got up behind to spoon her. Her ass fit perfectly against me and I wrapped an arm over her, curled up her stomach and hand cupping her breast. Her breathing began matching mine, and feeling her curve in my hand and nipple between my fingers, my cock began to waken and slowly stiffen against her ass. She made no secret of liking it as she gently adjusted herself so my cock bit right in the middle against her.

I slid my hand off of her breast and down her stomach. I took a moment this time to play around in her pubic hair, loving the feel of it against my fingertips and between my fingers. The curls and texture, the give and take of her hair and skin, the slickness from it already being wet as I played with her clit. I felt some pre-cum arise as it slowly spilt onto her backside.

She was closer to the bedstand, and grabbed another condom, unwrapping it and turning back toward me so I could keep playing with her as she slipped it on me. She rolled back on her side, back to me. After rubbing her clit a little while more, she scooted up the bed a bit. Taking my hand back from between her legs, I guided my cock to the same spot from behind her. I rubbed the tip and shaft against her wet lips, back and forth to turn her on, then sliding myself inside her. Like before, I took a little time to speed up, relishing every bit of me inside and feeling her, the way her legs pressed against mine, and my hands stroking and feeling her all over.

Speeding up, I held both of her breasts in my hands as I slid in and out of her, seeing a reflection of us in the room’s mirror. Going in and out harder and faster, she pulled on leg on top of and over mine, letting me see a little of my cock going in and out of her in the mirror. Eventually, I grabbed her hip so I could get harder and faster, her sounds filling the room as we went on. She came before I did, feeling inside her nearly clamp down on my cock until I came, firing inside her again. As before, she wouldn’t let me draw out until well after I was soft again.

We cuddled a while longer, not wanting to move or let the moment pass.

Eventually, I looked at the clock and it was moving from late afternoon to early evening, the sun already set. We kissed some more, then got up and cleaned up in the bathroom, taking turns in the shower. After getting dressed, I say at the foot of the bed getting socks and shoes on, she was in one the chairs sliding on her leggings.

“I’m going to take it that this was a good time for all.” I said.

She smiled back. “Oh, it was. This was much better than I expected.”

“Thanks. Honestly, I didn’t think we’d get past talking over coffee.”

“I’d say we went way beyond expectations for today.” She replied with a laugh. “Okay, I need to go home and figure out what story I’m telling my kids about where I’ve been all day!”

I shook my head, “I just need to go home and collapse.”

At home, my roommate left a note saying that they were at their boyfriend’s place, so I enjoyed having the place to myself. I ordered a pizza and took a long hot shower. Later that evening I got a text from her, a simple “That was fun! Hope you enjoyed yourself!” message. I replied that I did and didn’t hear back from her the rest of the weekend. I figured she got what she wanted and since I was clear about my intentions, then that was probably it.

Later the next week, I walked into the house after work and the gym as part of my regular routine and jumped into the shower. I hear my phone ping half a dozen times while I was cleaning up and checked it. She texted me a few times, asking how I was doing and what I was up to. I replied back that I was good and just doing the usual weekly routine of work and all, and asked how she was doing.

A few minutes later the phone rang – it was her.

Shutting my bedroom door so my roommate couldn’t hear, I answered the phone.

“Hey,” she said, her voice reflecting what I’m sure was a smile on her face.

“Hi,” I replied, “I wasn’t expecting to hear back from you.”

“Why’s that?”

I paused. “I kinda got the vibe you didn’t really expect anything else after last weekend.”

This time, she paused. “I . . . wasn’t really really. I mean, we met just to fuck and were pretty clear about it with each other.”

“True enough,” I said.

“Thing is, I enjoyed myself – a lot. I’m pretty sure you did, too.”

“Absolutely,” I couldn’t help but smile back.

“OK, I’ll just throw it out there – I have my place all to myself this weekend. And I thought if you were free, we could meet up again, have some more fun. It’s OK if you don’t want to, I – ”

“What time works for you?”

She paused again. “How about 7:00 PM?”

I felt my cock get slightly engorged from just the thought of that evening. “I’ll be there, just give me your address.”

The weekend arrived and I spent a little extra time grooming myself – good shave, thorough shower, and took care of some of my body hair more than usual. I threw on some clothes that looked a little bit nicer than the ones I wore when we met, and left giving myself time to get over to her place. I was living in Fairfax at the time and she gave me an address down in Fairfax Station, almost to Lorton. Not exactly next door but not out of my comfort zone for distance. I had some idea of where her neighborhood was, but used the GPS for a little help. I was a little surprised by how nice the area was – the houses all looked less than 10 or 15 years old and with decent size yards.

I finally found her house and parked in her driveway. Lights were on and I didn’t see anyone else outside with it still being pretty damn cold out. I barely knocked on the door when she opened it.

“Hi! You’re here!” she exclaimed, big smile on her face. She wore a tight fitting pair of jeans and a loose white v-neck t-shirt that revealed plenty of cleavage. We hugged and quickly kissed.

I gestured at my car, “Is it kosher for me to park there?”

She looked over my shoulder. “Oh, yeah, you’re fine.”

She shut the door behind me as I stepped in and took off my leather jacket. “I take it the neighbors have something new to gossip about seeing me show up?”

She rolled her eyes, “Probably. I moved her five years ago and they’re still spilling the tea about a single black mother moving into the neighborhood.”

“Seriously?”

She laughed a little, “Oh ho, ho, ho, you’ve never dealt with being black or a woman.”

“Fair enough,” I said, peeking around. “Nice place. How’d you manage to get it all to yourself tonight?”

“Thanks! Well, my oldest is at a sleepover and my youngest is with their father for the weekend.”

She showed me around a little and then to the kitchen where a bottle of wine and glasses were waiting, one already partially full. She poured and handed me a glass.

“Nice, and you didn’t make any plans?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes again. “I . . . was going to just enjoy having some ‘me time’ with some wine and movies, but I thought I’d roll the dice and see if you might be willing to meet again.”

“I’m still a little surprised.”

“Why’s that?” she asked sipping her wine.

“I figured on low expectations from a Casual Encounters ad. You don’t look for big connections through those and I thought we got what we wanted from meeting.”

She nodded, “Yes, but it was a nice meeting, and I thought it might be fun to try another.” She leaned against me, her breasts pressing against me and spilling even more cleavage from the clever neckline of her t-shirt. I leaned in and kissed her, feeling that amazing tongue wrap about mine, tasting like the wine.

We moved into the living room (she brought the wine bottle with us), some kind of slower house music playing softly and sat on the couch next to each other. We drank more and talked a little more about our lives, experiences, things we noticed about each other. Almost through my second glass she cuddled up against me, my arm draped over her shoulders and hanging down her arm.

“So,” she asked, “Just curious, did you tell anyone about last weekend?”

I looked at her curiously.

“I know men, you always make a big deal when you get some. And you scored two notches – a black woman and an older woman.”

I shook my head. “I haven’t told anyone.”

She turned her head toward me, a little more serious looking. “Are you embarrassed about it or something?”

Shock when across my face. “No! I just don’t confide very easily. I’m really private about myself.”

“Mmm hmm . . .” she replied, unconvinced.

I pulled out my phone, “Well, if you’re serious, we can take a picture right now and I’ll send it to a few friends as proof that I’m out of the house and having a good time.”

She laughed. “No, no, no, don’t do that, but gimme your phone.” And effortlessly she pulled up the camera app, held it up in front of us and took a few selfies. We looked at the pics and I loved her smile in them.

“Those are good pics,” I said, “I might want a few more.”

She smiled and reached over to the wine bottle. “Whoops, that one’s done.”

She started to get up, but I put a hand on her hip. She stopped and turned to me. I drew her face closer to me with one hand and kissed her. Just a few pecks at first, then a deep kiss sliding my tongue into her mouth. She leaned against me as her breathing deepened. We sat there kissing, my hands stroking the length of her back and curve of her ass as she wrapped hers around me, holding tight.

I moved to her ear, the tip of my tongue teasing her earlobe and tracing the edge of her ear, then nuzzling her neck, steadily moving down to her collarbone. I kissed back up the front of her neck as she raised her head up, then ever so slightly turned her head, inviting me to kiss down the other side of her neck. Her t-shirt was slight pulled down showing off more of her breasts and the black bra she was wearing and I made my way down, kissing every curve. I pulled off her t-shirt and quickly unclipped her bra so I could suck and play with her nipples. She moaned and gyrated her hips against me, straddling my lap.

She got off the couch and immediately dropped to her knees in front of me as I unzipped and pulled off my jeans and briefs. She grabbed my hard cock and put her whole mouth over it, sucking hungrily on it. She licked the shaft, sucked on my balls, and drew it into her mouth over and over, nearly setting off her gag reflex at one point. She finally drew herself away, a long thread of saliva still connecting her mouth to my cock.

Standing up, she took off her jeans and laid down on the couch, legs spread with one hiked up on the back cushions. I dove in between her legs and began licking and tonguing her. She was wet and I’d swear even warmer than the last time we met. I played with her clit with the tip of my tongue and traced every line of her lips. Her hair nuzzled against my nose and I grabbed her breasts, fondling and squeezing them as I tongued her, satisfied that she was satisfied.

I reached over to the other chair where my jacket was and yanked out one of the condoms I brought, wasting no time getting it on and getting on top of her, jamming myself into her pink wetness. I was a machine going in and out of her, loving how she looked jammed into the couch. I leaned in to kiss her as I ran my cock in and out of her, legs still spread, her pussy felt as if she were grabbing me with it to stay inside.

She tapped on my shoulder and we got up, this time I sat on the couch as she sat on top with her back to me. She bounced up and down on my cock as I reached around and grabbed her breasts. Her nipples hard between my fingers, her ass wonderfully form fitting in my lap. She slowed down, then grinded into me, her hips moving forwards and backwards, my cock feeling even deeper inside of her. I could feel how wet she was through the condom, and that wonderful heat.

At last, I felt myself getting ready, so I shifted her to all fours on the couch, hands on the end as I grabbed her hips from behind and got inside her again, pounding into her. She yelled and moaned as I thrusted into her, feeling like I’d go off at any moment while wanting it to last forever. I felt the tingle deep inside and held myself onto her as tightly as I could as I came hard inside. She yelled more as her own orgasm took over, her body shaking and quivering as we both settled down.

We collapsed on her couch, a tangled pile breathing hard and loving our sweaty hot skin against one another. Her head rested on my chest, kissing it or looking up so I could kiss her. We stayed there until we finally felt chilled, where she grabbed a blanket and threw it over us as she got back into her cuddling position with me. Sometimes we talked, but mostly enjoyed the quiet intimacy, hands exploring with a life of their own. We took turns feeling one another, sometimes me with my fingers deep inside her, and other times she stroking and fondling my cock.

We began deeply kissing as we felt one another, but didn’t get up to get into position. She kept stroking me as I drew my fingers in and out while rubbing her clit. Soon enough she was gasping as I turned her on and I moaned as each stroke of her hand turned me on. We got hot enough again that she pulled the blanket off of us as we kept playing with each other, making almost as much noise as when we were fucking earlier. I felt inside her and discovered the tell-tale rough spot to play with, making her squirm and yell as I knew and orgasm when off inside.

Her hand was slick with my pre-cum, making it slide up and down easier as she stroked me. I felt my own orgasm about to strike, and without a word she laid down on the couch as I stood over her, she still stroking me until I came, shooting my load all over her stomach. The last bit landing just at the top of her beautiful patch of her above her pussy. She held my cock against her stomach, still hard and now rubbing it with my sperm on her.

I laid down with on the couch again, both of us eventually recovering. It was then I noticed the sheets covering the couch.

“I guess,” I said still a little breathless, “You won’t have too much trouble cleaning up in here.”

She smiled, her eyes still closed. “Those sheets are there for what my kids do in here, but I’ll definitely need to run them through the wash.”

“When do they get back?”

She sighed, “Probably afternoon, why?”

“I was wondering if I’m staying the night.”

She smiled again. “I’d love you to, but I need to neaten up the place and clean up the evidence. And to be honest, you probably don’t want to do the walk of shame to your car in the morning with eyes all over the neighborhood watching.”

“Fair enough.”

She looked over herself. “But, maybe a shower is a good idea before you go.”

She led me upstairs to her master bedroom suite and into the bathroom with a huge walk-in shower. We spent more time just standing under the warm water, kissing and nuzzling until finally using some soap and washcloths to clean ourselves up. She slipped on a fresh t-shirt and sweatpants while I walked downstairs, towel around my waist, to gather up my clothes and get dressed.

We stood in her foyer for who knows how long. Kissing, hugging, and smiling. Didn’t say much, just bye and it was fun. Not sure when I’ll see her again, but I noticed her standing in the window watching me like a hawk until I drove away.