NSFW. Frank Sexual Situation.
Erotic Short Fiction. Mature Adults
It had been a while since they were together. Too long maybe. There were reasons, some bad, some good, mostly centered around spouses, business partners, children, work.
But the board had been cleared. Death, divorce, graduation, retirement took care of that. And the internet works wonders when reuniting is the matter at hand.
They met at a bed and breakfast overlooking the harbor of a New England fishing village. Except nobody fished from that harbor anymore. The tech millionaires’ yachts were now moored in the harbor. Without doubt, they were beautiful boats, sloops, schooners, yawls. And so, they bobbed in the water soullessly, million dollar diversions that they were.
Scruff recognized Taff the minute he saw her, even after the years apart. She had aged as he had.
Then he said something that surprised even him.
“I want you. Now. Here is the room key. Go up. I will meet you in fifteen minutes. I will bring your bag up. I want to see you naked on the bed when I open the door.”
Taff was surprised. Ready to walk out. Yet, what the Hell. They’d had sex before, years ago, during the Carter Administration, just as a point of reference. He was married. She was married. She was drunk. He was too. And a fuck to spite her cheating low life husband seemed like a good idea. Scruff’s story was just as sordid, with a wife who needed cover back in the day, when being a lesbian in the suburbs was not cool. Taff should know. Being “Bi” in the ‘burbs was no bed of roses either. Maybe that’s why Taff connecting with Kate, Scruff’s wife for whom he bearded, was inevitable. That’s how they moved on the circuit of liaisons. But now, after Kate was gone, Scruff was alone, needing something more than tennis, golf, and mandatory attendance at 7 year old age group swim meets
That hunger he felt then was back. The time lost was a weight. This time with Taff seemed like a reward for wearing that mask of respectability.
The kids and the grandkids were going to come out OK. They would never know about Dad/Gramps’ other world. He and Taff were out to change the trajectory of their futures.
He turned the doorknob and there she was naked, on the bedspread of thé bed that had yet to be turned down. Taff lay on her side, gazing out the glass doors at the boats in the harbor, the bathers at play on the town beach.
“Very good,” he commended her.
“Can’t nobody top me at lying naked on a bed. I took a minor in Private Lewdness in college,” Taff boasted.
“Nice to know your Daddy’s money was well spent.”
” Have we changed sports to Free Style Sarcasm?” Taff quipped
“Not before we have some particularly nasty fucking. Crawl to me, Bitch.”
She climbed off the bed and she did crawl to him, where she kissed his dorky college boy Weejuns, before she kneeled up, unbuckled the belt of his khakis, pulled down his trousers and white boxers. Then she began to fellate him, not waiting for directions, discarding the rules of who would top, who would bottom, who would choreograph this fuck. She wanted him to come. She would happily swallow his jizz, because she wanted this Senior Citizen Preppie to be eating her cunt out with no priapic distraction driving him to hurry and climb on top as if she were a ride at the Amusement Park of Fornication.
“Let’s see what your mouth, tongue and fingers can do,” she thought.
“Your turn, Pretty Boy.” She lay on her back, spread her legs, as Scruff, The Magic White Man, set to work.
He did not disappoint. She would not let him.
“If he thinks he is Mr Satisfaction I ain’t letting him stop til his mouth goes dry.” And so Scruff lapped cunt as he never had before. .
She rode her waves quite well. And when they looked up and noticed the sunset, they knew they were off to a beautiful beginning.
