Jayne’s World

Jayne’s World Part 4

An older man and a younger woman examine the age difference to find out if it really matters.

As those of you who have read the previous parts will know this is not a wham bang thank you ma’am sort of story. It’s a slow burner, with regard to describing physical sex between Jayne, a 23-year-old ‘adchick’ and James a 55-year-old retired banker.

For some, age is a barrier, a huge one, a non-starter. Many cannot handle age differences and won’t even try. James and Jayne wondered whether they could? This series of impressions and observations examines what happened when they tried.

Reading the previous parts might add to your appreciation of the couple’s situation, but it’s not essential as I hope this stands alone as an erotic story.

Her.

I think it was the languid, unhurried pace more than anything else that so appealed to me. The way that you seemed to have time for everything. The way that you completed one task, such as anointing one breast or arousing one nipple, before moving on to the other, that appealed so much. Your patience, your diligence, your concern for me and your conscientiousness in ensuring that you did everything sort of, how could I best describe it, ah yes, as well as you could do it, all contributed to making that surreal period in that booth so fucking horny that I almost had a climax. Almost, but not quite.

‘Why the fuck am I doing this?’ Suddenly came into my mind as you sucked my nipples and then slid your hands up my skirt and grabbed my arse. As nice as that I felt, I stopped you. I was having a mental battle with my alter ego.

I don’t like ageism, but for Christ’s sake, he’s in his fifties, I thought? So? I countered, what’s the problem? He’s got a cock, you know that, he gets it very hard, you know that. He wants to fuck you, you know that and, so far, he’s been a great lover, you know that very well. But, he’s old. So? You will be one day and wouldn’t it be nice if a young bloke took a fancy to you?

“Come on,” I said. “We have to go.”

“Why?”

“Because James this is not a knocking shop, we can mess around a bit, but there are limits and we’re in danger of breaking them.”

“Oh sorry.”

I laughed, “It’s a strange new world isn’t it?” I said, as I did up a few of the buttons on my blouse and put the pashmina back round my neck in preparation for outside, but didn’t tie it. “So, I take it the answer’s yes?” I said as we threaded our way through the very busy ‘ordinary’ peoples’ area.

“To what?” You asked

I replied rather louder than necessary as we walked past a large group who looked at ‘gramps and young bird.’

“As to whether my tits are better than Lita’s?”

“Course they are girl,” a bloke standing with his mates watching a girl strip on a plasma said. His mate added. “Well give us a flash and I’ll tell yer.”

“Bloody cheek,” you said gallantly.

“Let it go James, we’re in a man’s world here.”

We wandered out of the club into the hustle and bustle of Covent Garden.

“I never knew it was common for girls to go to such clubs?” You said.

“Well, it’s becoming so,” I told you. “You did enjoy it, I take it.”

“Yes of course. And the answer Jayne,” you said as we came to a narrow alley that ran down towards The Strand, I think, actually near the celeb restaurant Joe Allen. “Is that yours are better.”

“My tits you mean,” you said as we turned down the alley.

“Yes,” you said putting your arm round my waist, and resting your hand on my bum. I wiggled it.

“You liked looking at them did you?”

“Of course, any man would.”

Smiling, I said as I fiddled with the pashmina. “So would quite a few women, you know.”

“Yes of course,” you smiled rubbing my bum through the denim. “You’re the bi generation, aren’t you?”

Laughing I said “Something like that,” as I turned into a deep doorway near to the Savoy.

“What’s this?” You asked your hand leaving my bum as you followed me into the darkness of the doorway.

Going as far in as I could to where there was just a little light, but where we would be unlikely to be seen, I turned and leaned back against the plate glass of the office doors. As I did, I pulled the pashmina from round my neck and said.

“Well, you can look at them again now James.”

Your eyes were as big as organ stops when you saw that I had again undone the buttons on the blouse and had pulled it open. The cooler night air on my tits, not only felt good, but also made my nipples pulsate to their hardest erection.

Him.

My cock was aching. Aching with arousal, aching with lust, aching with excitement. Aching with the need to fuck. And simply aching for you. Aching for you to touch it, hold it and suck it.

I had decided some hours earlier that I wanted her, though truthfully, our age difference had suggested that was highly unlikely. I mean, it was a problem for me, wondering whether it was ‘right’ to pursue someone so much younger, whether I could satisfy you if you succumbed to my ‘charms’, whether my fifty-five-year-old body would be a turn off for someone as young and attractive as you. Whether me not being able to do it again half hour after the first shag, as I assume your young bucks did, would be an issue

So, if it was an issue for me, God knows what must be going on in your mind. Hell, you must have major doubts! But if so, you were disguising them well. Not only had you taken me to a lap dancing club, you’d hinted at your bi sexuality, let me grope your arse, had fondled my bulge, flashed your tits at me in the club, and were now doing the same in the dimly lit area you’d provocatively led me into.

For some reason, the thought of you with other women had been running through my mind. Every man’s fantasy! This talk about the bi generation was inflaming my arousal, the thought of you with another woman, or women even, maybe your blonde hair entwined with a brunette or redhead, or all blondes together and her/their mouths on your pussy, those wonderful tits, oh fuck!

Oh God, if I didn’t do something about my cock soon, the mind wanks you were invoking in me would bring on an orgasm without the need for any other stimulation. And the sight of you in this secluded alley, those Jayne-cum-to-bed eyes glinting at me as you leant back against the plate glass of the office doors and exposed your tits again.

For a few seconds, I struggled with myself. I wanted to yank my trousers open, expose myself. I wanted to grab your blonde hair and force you to your knees, experience the feel of your mouth on my hardness. I wanted to rip that thong in half, spread your legs and jam myself inside you.

I wasn’t aroused, I was beyond arousal.

What stopped me from doing any of those things was partly respect for you. I’ve never forced myself on any woman, though I had an almost definite certainty that such an action would be welcomed by you. But what really held me back was my age. Okay, maybe my body couldn’t compete with the sort of young guys you were used to. But perhaps the way I could give you pleasure, would?

Until either of us decided otherwise, this was all about your pleasure before mine.

Actually, that wasn’t quite true. Because giving pleasure can be such a turn on, the moans of a woman can be more arousing than your own, the sound of a woman cumming on your cock, tongue or fingers can be almost as wonderful as the moment she coaxes your manjuice from you.

God, was I in verbal bollocksville again? Time for action!

I closed in on you as you leant back against the window, my hands finding your tits at the same time as my lips found your mouth. I stroked your twin beauties, caressed them, kneaded them, pinching and pulling on the nipples that demanded attention. God, they were as hard as my cock!

They were by no means big tits, B cups probably, in fact looking at them now, they were really quite small, well medium I suppose but they looked good and felt fucking incredible and as for their shape, simply perfection.

You moaned into my mouth and I grunted into yours. Our lips fought. But as passionate as it was, it wasn’t a quick kiss I was after.

Her.

Although I hadn’t done it much I always thought to myself that one of my biggest turn ons, or kinks as guys seemed to call it, was having sex out doors in places where there was a danger of being caught. And this doorway was right up there with the few places where I had done just that.

But were we going to fuck was the big question? The question that hadn’t been asked yet, but surely soon would be. And still I was not sure of the answer.

Him.

I’d had sex in some pretty risky places in the past; back seats of cars, a front seat even on one occasion, toilets in a club, on a beach and in a hotel swimming pool at night. And I was well up for it now in this office doorway near The Savoy hotel. And as we kissed and you flaunted your lovely tits at me the ‘whether we would fuck here’ question was high up in my mind.

Then things went even further up on the Richter scale.

“Here grandad,” you said smiling taking my hand in yours and pressing your other hand against it. I opened my hand and felt the softness of material that for a second or two I couldn’t quite figure what it was. In probably no more than a second or two, though, it did register.

‘Fuck its her panties, oh my god.’

Her.

Even as I lifted your hand holding my thong up and rubbed the silky material across your face lingering it around your nose, I wasn’t quite sure why I had taken them off when you’d gone to the loo in the club. Was I asking to be fucked, telling you that he could have me, illustrating that I wanted it, that and him? I wasn’t sure. I was certainly hugely aroused and well beyond the level it normally took for me to want it. But it wasn’t just that there was something else, more to it, but what was it? A reward for him, me trying to please him, a show off gesture saying ‘see how hip and outlandish we the young of today are’? Fuck knows and as he didn’t, neither did I so I gave up thinking and kissed you back.

Him

My hands left your tits to take hold of your wrists, pulling your hands above your head and holding them there with one hand round both wrists as I ground my hardness into your pussy. Our heads tilted at an angle as one set of lips forced the other into position, allowing our tongues to flicker against each other like candle flames in a soft breeze.

I paused for a brief second and pulled away a little, allowing me to kiss the corners of your lips, the left and then the right, licking across your top lip and then softly pulling down your bottom lip between my teeth. Drawing back a second, I watched the cloudy look in your blue eyes and slowly ground my cock into you again while I provocatively held your gaze.

Only when I felt your hips grind back did I close in for another kiss this time wetter, deeper and more passionate. Our lips collided, battled, co-operated, in a desperate need to mouth-fuck one another. As all the time the fact that I was holding your knickers in my hand and that beneath your skirt you were naked was going through my mind.

I tightened my left hand around both your wrists, keeping your hands above your head as my right hand slid back to your tits, massaging them, feeling your hard nipples against my palm, rotating my hand to enhance your pleasure. Then it continued its downward journey, rubbing your skirt-covered pussy before diving under your it and sliding down right onto your excitingly, bald mound.

We both grunted at that first touch, the feeling of my fingers running up and down your wetness. God, you were soaking. A growl came from the back of my throat as I withdrew my hand to let you see me taste your juices, before sliding my fingers back to where, at that precise moment, they belonged.

Your legs willingly parted as our mouths clashed again, your tongue catching as much of your taste from my lips as you could, and swallowing it in. My kiss was more forceful this time, pushing my lips harder against yours, grabbing your tongue between them and sucking on it just as if it was your clit.

When I heard and felt a gurgling moan emerge from your lips, I pulled my head away again, no more than a few inches, but enough so that I could look into your eyes, and you could into mine. My fingers traced the wet contours of your labia gently and unhurriedly adjusting each stroke in line with the way your breathing changed. Then yet another moan escaped from your lips, making me wonder if I could persuade you onto your knees to get them round my astonishing hardness.

Your eyes flickered closed, so I stopped all movement, forcing you to open them. Only when I had your gaze again, did I allow my fingers to resume their pleasurable torture. Your legs widened to allow me more freedom. I took it willingly, aroused by your arousal.

“Good?” I unnecessarily asked, as I slid a finger inside you and flicked your slippery clit with my thumb.

Your groan gave me the answer I wanted, and as your eyes closed again, I leant forward to run my tongue along your neck, just the very tip, feather-light, stroking your skin the way my thumb was stroking your clit.

“Oh, God,” I heard you mumble as you rotated your hips against my hand, fucking yourself on my fingers. I sensed rather than felt the build up inside your body, feeling you begin to spiral upwards as your moans increased and evaporated into the empty air.

“Not yet,” I teasingly whispered, licking along your neck again as I eased off until you calmed wondering whether you would let me fuck you, after sucking my cock, of course!

I waited until you looked at me before beginning again, ever so slowly finger fucking you. Even though you opened your legs wider, then closed them, crossing them below the knees, our positions facing each other were not quite right. I needed to be more alongside you so, keeping hold of your thong, I moved so that I was more by your side and slid my arm around your waist. That enabled you to lean back with your shoulders against the glass door and your stomach and legs stretched before you a little. Now you were in a perfect position. I pulled the now ridiculously, short skirt up and tucked the hem in the waist band so that effectively with your top open you were naked to any onlooker. I was the only one of those and kissing you I slid my fore and middle fingers into you. They went in so easily.

Working in time with your moans and the wanton thrust of your hips, I continued with the insistent tempo of my fingers. You gurgled again as I worked them harder as I searched for your g-spot.

When I found it, you came. Instantly and loudly seemingly completely unaware of our surroundings.

God, I love a loud woman!

Your body began to tremble, your knees so weak I had to pull the hand away from your wrists so that I could wrap it around your waist and support you. As you flooded my hand with your honeyed juices, I dropped my head to your tits, suckling one, then the other, like a baby at its mother’s breasts.

Slowly, you recovered. Our joint breathing, panting really, began to return to normal. My hand continued to stroke along your wet pussy, in what I hoped was more a comforting gesture than any deliberate attempt to arouse you again. Caressing your pussy, suckling your tits, I felt your hands on my hair, stroking at first, and then pulling my head upwards.

Our eyes met.

“Not bad for a grandad?” I asked, with an aroused grin.

Her.

I really don’t know just what it was that made that orgasm so powerful. I have no recall as to why that finger fucking had such an effect on me: being in the open air, the possibility of being caught, the pent-up excitement or purely your skill? Any of those, although I suspected that the amount of skill needed to bring a girl off by wiggling your finger up her pussy was not that great.

But there was something else, another emotion an additional feeling. What was it I kept thinking as you removed your hand from my knickers and I did the buttons up on my blouse, yet again? Then, as I tied the pashmina in place and wiggled the tiny skirt down to its ‘full’ eighteen-inch length, it hit me. It was the position, how I was standing and leaning, how you were holding me. Yes, it was having my hands held above my head. That position was so defenceless, one of total capitulation. It was a position of supplication, surrender and extreme submissiveness. What the fuck’s got into me I asked myself as I said.

“No, not bad at all, what the fuck did you do to me, drug me?”

“Just what comes naturally to mature and experienced men, to grandads,” you smiled kissing me.

“Well perhaps we ought to start a company, Grandads for hire, finger fucking a specialty,” We both laughed as we walked out the alley. I went to turn left. You grabbed me.

“It’s this way.”

“What is?”

“The hotel.”

“Is it.”

“Yes, up there towards the cab rank.”

“Ok good.”

You pulled my hand.

“My station is this way,” I replied.

“So?”

“Well, that’s where I’m going.”

“Jayne please.”

“What?”

“I thought you were going to come to the hotel.”

“What for the experience?” I smiled.

You smiled back and moved closer putting your arm around me as you bent and whispered “And the fuck.”

I moved away a little, looked you right in the eye and said, probably a little too loudly.

“I don’t fuck on a first date James, sorry.”

Him.

I was taken aback, to say the least. Thoughts bounced around my mind, all converging with one another and battling for release.

Either you were the consummate cocktease, or was playing hard to get. Or maybe you’d just changed your mind? Had second thoughts? Perhaps the experience in the alley had been a step too far? In some ways, it didn’t make sense. In others, it did. What did I expect? An old guy, attempting to pick up and fuck an attractive twenty-three-year-old! It was never really going to happen, was it?

Disappointment filled my head. But curiously enough it wasn’t only disappointment at the outcome. After all, your reaction had seen my almost constant erection subside, as if I’d been dowsed in cold water. Or more accurately, hit by a dose of reality. No, that wasn’t the only reason.

The point was that I didn’t want the evening to end just yet, and not like this. I’d thoroughly enjoyed your company throughout the day. And who knows if I was to see you again? Probably not. So, another hour together would be the perfect way to end what had been an exceptional day.

“Look,” I said, staring into those blue eyes that affected me so much. “It’s okay, Jayne. Right now, forget about the sex thing. I promise I won’t mention it again tonight, or try anything for that matter.”

Your eyes opened wide and an amused smile touched your lips. “You promise?” you breathed, as if such an assurance was beyond my capabilities.

I nodded. “Believe me, you’re safe,” I confidently said. Male pride dictated that having been ‘rejected’, I wasn’t going to reopen that door. “But that’s not the point.”

“What is the point, James?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Jayne?” I asked, with a sigh. “We’ve enjoyed our day together. Isn’t it a shame to abruptly end the evening like this? Why don’t you come back to the hotel, we can have a nightcap together”?

“Nightcap. Is that all?” your suspicious yet amused voice asked.

“In the bar,” I retorted. “Not my bedroom. That’s out of bounds!”

“Out of bounds?” you laughed.

I nodded again. “Absolutely, you’ve blown that chance, blue eyes.”

“I’m crushed,” you laughed. So did I.

“Look, Jayne,” I said, with a firmness neither of us expected. “Neither of us wants to mess the other around. And we’re not going to. There are two choices. If you’d like to head back home now, I’ll walk you to the station, not a problem. Or, we can have a drink in the bar, and a late-night sandwich if you’d like to soak up some of the booze we’ve consumed. Then I’ll order you a taxi back to your place. What d’you think?”