Shoots and Scores!

It was almost nine-thirty. Most of the attendees had bailed during the last half hour; just six of us left. Steph and Jerry finished their drinks and stood up to go. They only lived about fifteen minutes away from the hotel, so they’d go home. The other couple, Dan and Janice, would be spending the night, as would I. I lived an hour from where we were, those two even farther.

That left Kelsey. I did not know where she lived but I suspected she planned to stay the night or she’d have left already. I actually wondered why she was still there.

We were the only two singles that had attended this, the third training symposium mandated by our new employer. They had new ways of doing things; everybody’s job was affected, so they mandated these formal sessions to not only intro those new procedures, but also to build more camaraderie between departments.

Spouses were welcome to attend the provided dinner, but not sit in on the sessions themselves; most brought their significant others. Plus, of course, many couples both worked there, so that made it more convenient for employees and employer alike.

After the Friday night dinner there was the actual company presentation, then a half-hour or more of informal dialog, and then dismissal or a little socializing. Since many of the employees lived an hour or more away the company was providing the night at the hotel for any feeling they needed to stay after a long day.

The six of us had decided to have a drink or two from the hotel bar and just sit around bullshitting. I’d worked with Janice for some years two years ago so we were well acquainted, and I’d met Dan once or twice. Jerry and Steph both worked in my department.

Kelsey worked in a totally different function, but she and I knew each other by sight and name and exchanged greetings and smiles when we saw each other at work.

All I knew about her was that she was unconventional–probably on purpose–seemed nice and friendly to almost everybody, and was pretty, with curly dark brown hair and deeply dark brown eyes, but light skin–a stunningly beautiful complexion. If she wore any makeup, it was too subtle to be noticeable. Her skin glowed. It was flawless, as smoothly healthy as a happy child’s.

The two things I liked about her, besides that she had pretty features and what I considered an attractive build, was that complexion and she had great legs. She may have been a touch thin in the calves, but her thighs were perfect, as the shorts she wore in the summer revealed. I’d imagined getting my face in between those legs, kissing, licking, and nibbling her inner thighs for many long minutes, working my way to the conjunction, and following my instincts.

I finished my drink and stood up. Kelsey did likewise. As I walked to the lobby she fell in step next to me. She’s about two inches shorter than I. Her right hand found my left and interlaced her fingers with mine. She looked at me.

“Do you mind?”

“Of course not. But may I return the gesture with one of my own?”

She looked puzzled but said sure.

I stopped walking long enough to kiss her briefly on the cheek.

“Thanks. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

I steered us on a side trip to the little area with free coffee and tea and a couple of vending machines. I turned and faced her, but we kept our fingers interlaced. She put her left arm on my right shoulder and I put my right hand on her waist. We were waltzing, but without music or movement.

“Why this sudden though very welcome interest?”

“It’s not that sudden, it’s just that this is the first opportunity I’ve had to express it. As to why, Fred, it’s because I like what you write.”

“You’ve read my books?”

“Huh? No, I didn’t know you’d written any books. I like the writing you publish on Literotica.”

“How do you know which stories are mine?”

“Kevin told me. I often score for the shooting competitions and Kevin is a regular, plus an organizer and scheduler. After the shoots we often go to a bar and have a drink or two or twelve. Kevin and three or four other regulars usually tell me I’m welcome to join them and I usually do.”

“Yeah I know Kevin’s a good shooter, and he’s mentioned more than once that one of the ladies that scores for them joins them for drinks after. He didn’t tell me it was you.”

“I’m not the only one. Anyhow, on one of those nights somehow the subject of sex came up, no surprise, and one of the guys wondered about free porn. Kevin told him–us–about Literotica. He even told us that you had a few stories in there under a pen name.

“After the party broke up I nagged him until he told me your pen name. Then over the next three weekends, when I’ve had time, I’ve read all your stories.”

“Kevin talks too much.”

“Maybe Kevin talks just the right amount. First, I like what you don’t write. You don’t do anal–”

“Nope, it holds no attraction for me.”

“Me neither. You aren’t obsessed with big boobs–”

“My preferences are for small and firm. Too small is much better than too big, but just right has a large range. I am extra-fond of nipples.”

“And there’s never anything forced, or even coerced, including no BDSM and no horror.”

“Also true. One of the young female readers asked me to do a story about sex with an uncle, which made for “Uncle’s Comfort.” But she wanted the sex to be forced at least some, and I told her sorry, I don’t believe in that. I guess she wasn’t thrilled with the story, but it’s one of my top-rated ones, maybe even first.”

“See? Our tastes run in common. Also, I like the fact that all the sex involves love, or at least sincere affection. None of just fucking strangers to get off, or even having revenge sex or domination sex. Plus, your male hero always wants to make sure his lady gets the big O at least once before he has his.”

“Idealized sex, totally subjective. So, Kelsey, am I too bold to think you’re interested in a little intimacy tonight?”

“No, you’re not too bold but no, I’m not interested in a little intimacy tonight. I’m hoping for a lot of really intimate intimacy. Like what Greg gave Olivia, or James gave Jennifer.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to disappoint you, but you’ve got me horny enough to let you risk it. How ’bout we go to my room, or your room, and continue there?”

“I was about to suggest the same thing.”

So we did, still holding hands, Kelsey bouncing along like a school girl. I told you she was unconventional.

I’d checked in when I first arrived so my overnight bag was already in the room on the fifth floor. Her room was just down the hall. She hurried to hers, grabbed her own bag and hurried back to mine. On her way I noticed even further down the hall two couples I recognized from work going into one room. Their body language screamed “eager.”

Kelsey almost dragged me into the room, shut the door, dropped her bag, put her arms around my neck and kissed me full-out on the lips. She pushed her front hard against me and offered her tongue for attention.

I can take a hint.

I kissed her back the best I could and let my own tongue touch hers and taste her smile.

I’d had the beginnings of an erection when we were talking and touching downstairs, but that kiss really served to expand my interest. Still, there were things I needed to do.

When the kiss broke I disengaged myself and went to my bag and got out one of the blue pills.

“Viagra?” she asked, and seemed surprised. “It didn’t feel like you needed it.”

“I don’t for growth, but I do for action. Getting old is terrible, but it beats the alternative. No matter how long the gun barrel, if it ain’t straight and hard it won’t shoot. So we’ve got about an hour to wait. I think we can find something fun to do.”

“You always have Viagra with you when you spend a night away from home?”

“Of course. Condoms, too. Never know when I might get lucky.”

“And how often is that?”

“After tonight I hope the answer won’t be ‘never’.”

She laughed and sat down on the bed. She took off her hikers and calf-length white socks, then her rainbow-colored denim vest, leaving her with just sequined jeans and a long-sleeved black tee-shirt with a picture of a dildo with the circle around it and the diagonal line across it. Not suitable for work, hence the vest.

“While we’re waiting, and before we get to the beginnings of serious intimacy, you do realize I’m old enough to be your father?”

“First, that wouldn’t matter. Second, I doubt it. I’m probably older than you think.”

“That goes both ways. As ungentlemanly as it might be, I’d guess your age at thirty-five to forty.”

“Good guess. I’m thirty-nine for another few months. I’d guess you at fifty to fifty five, though you look younger.”

“Thanks, but I’m sixty-two.” I’d been undressing slowly while we talked. Shoes and socks, then I was thinking about at least loosening my pants around the crotch area. It was getting crowded in there. Instead, I broached a different subject.

“Kelsey, if you don’t mind my asking, why not give this attention to Kevin? He’s younger by ten years, better looking, and you have more in common. And I know he’d be thrilled. And if you do mind my asking, just tell me to kiss your ass. In fact, do that anyway.”

She laughed again, briefly, and answered, “I won’t tell you to, but you have my encouragement. As for the Kevster, I’ve considered it, but it’s complicated. I’m afraid that if I scored with one shooter they would no longer let me score for all of them. Conflict of interest.”

“Kev’s not the kind to kiss and tell.”

“Or fuck and tell, either. But somehow someone would find out and blab it around. I need that extra money.”

She stood up and began to finish undressing. Shirt, jeans, bra, bikini panties, while I tried to match: shirt, jeans, whistle appreciatively, boxers.

We stood naked before each other, each offering casual inspection. She looked pretty much as I expected. She was rangy. A small narrowing at the waist, but not much. Small breasts, still firm, with delicious looking nipples. Her belly was slim, with just the right amount of soft padding. Her genitalia were completely denuded of hair, her outer labia thick and tight together…yet a sparkle of moisture winked at the juncture. And those wonderful thighs looked at least as good as my imagination conjured. Her hips were slim for a woman her age, her behind small but not too small.

She stepped close and ran her hands across my shoulders and down my arms, and then put them on my chest.

“You’re really sixty-two? Those shoulders and arms look better than most forty-year-olds I’ve seen. Pecs too.”

“And I have six-pack abs. They’re just hiding behind this ten pounds of dessert muscle.”

She stood close, she stepped closer, put her arms around my waist and initiated another kiss that grew quickly to a passionate dance of tongues and lips.

Something else grew, too, but not enough quite yet. When our lips separated I bent my head and took a nipple into my mouth and treated it as my favorite confection. My finger and thumb fondled the other, rubbing and squeezing.

She made a humming sound of approval and thrust her chest forward. Her hands went to pay similar attention to my nipples.

Soon I switched mouth and fingers to the other nipple. My other hand pulled her waist and hips closer against me and I cupped one of her tight gluts and caressed it, not too gently.

She put her hands on my head and pushed me away. “Before we proceed I should visit the bathroom.”

“Sounds like a good idea for me too. You first.”

She was in there only a few minutes. I decided to go for another laugh.

As soon as she stepped out of the doorway I clutched my crotch, voiced a high-pitched, “Oh, thank god!” and did a high-step hurry into the john.

Laugh accomplished. I heard her as I closed the door. After peeing I noticed a wet wash rag was half in and half out of the sink. She’d washed her privates and, since she didn’t try to conceal it I took it as a hint.

I liked that. Unconventional, bold, practical. I took the hint, since it was my intention anyway, making sure the water was warm.

I emerged. She was lying on her side on the bed, head propped by an arm with the elbow on the mattress. She looked obviously at my crotch. Still big, but not yet standing at attention.

She turned on the bed and lay there, legs spread apart, “How ’bout you get on the bed and do some of those neat things you write about?”

“Ummm, that might not go as well as you hope. I told you I might disappoint you. I’ve never actually done any of those oral stimulations.”

“Yeah, right. I’ve read your stories.”

“Sure. I’ve read dozens of stories. Maybe a hundred. So when I write my own, I just beg, borrow, or steal–mostly steal–from the other stories and write what others have written and modify it to my style and the situation. I suspect a lot of erotica writers do the same thing.”

“I think you’ve just busted my bubble.”

“I’m sorry. My wife and I were not quite virgins when we got married, but for both of us it was a once-and-done with a previous girl or boy friend. I had more of a curiosity than an urge for cunnilingus, but my wife never believed my face should be ‘down there.’ And she never got anything from it, or from my fingers, either. Maybe it was her, or maybe I was doing it wrong. She never offered any suggestions or requests and she liked the lights off so I never got a chance to recon the battlefield.

“We did have good sex, but it was always genital sex. We used the three major positions and managed to find her G-spot many times, mostly by accident. She did have good orgasms.”

We were both quiet for a minute or two. Mister Happy had lost some interest, though not all. Better reverse that trend.

“So now, just like my characters say, it’s my pleasurable duty to see that you get as much enjoyment as possible from this tryst.” I got on the bed and positioned myself above her, chest to breast, lips to lips, genitalia to genitalia. I kissed her and she kissed back.

“But you will honest to gosh have to help me. Give me directions: up, down, further in, further out, left, right, faster, slower, harder, softer, or ‘oh, my god, right there!’ when I get it right.”

She put her arms around my neck and kissed me again. “You do offer more entertainment than my other experiences. Is it possible to laugh and have an orgasm at the same time?”

“Maybe we’ll find out. That kiss, plus our current intimacy, and the Viagra, and especially that kiss are all having the desired effect.”

I didn’t talk for a while. I kissed her on the chin and the cheek and the throat, and the neck, and the shoulders. That gorgeously perfect complexion, close-up, was as alluring as it was from feet or yards away. Once in a while during that time I stopped with my lips or even the tip of my tongue on her skin and closed my eyes and just savored the flavor of her.

After many long minutes of savoring the journey down to her hips, cheered on by her wordless sounds of approval, I started again at her ankles and kissed my way up her calves, turning from one to the other, back and forth, and the same with her knees, back and front, and then along up those delectable thighs. Finally I arrived at the end of the tunnel. The front end.

I might have been down-playing my expected performance. I had, after all, read many stories that described what to do. And seen almost as many Literotica videos as well. I often wished I’d had that resource two decades earlier.

Some opportunities should not be ignored when they knock.

With fingers as gentle as mine know how to be I used both hands to separate her labia at the top and peer inside. There it was, a moist pink nub peeking out from the top juncture of the labia. I touched it with the tip of my middle finger.

“Is that it?”

“Good guess.”

“What would you like me to do with it?”

“Treat it kindly. You can blow on it gently. Then let it go back in hiding for a bit.”

I did just that. I blew on it as if I was trying to encourage a tiny spark to ignite and too much breeze would extinguish it. I was delighted to see it gained a little color. Then I took my fingers away and let the labia join back, offering a narrow crevasse to access her inner delights.

I gave her beautiful bare pussy a long firm flat-tongued lick, bottom to top. Then I kissed and licked each lovely labia. I used the firm tip of my tongue to penetrate between her lips and slowly work my way up, moving my tongue from side to side inside as I went. I stopped and looked at Kelsey. She was lying there eyes closed, lips in a half-smile as she fondled her breasts.

I decided right then that I wanted to do that, but not with my hands.

I carefully inserted the two middle fingers of my right hand into her vagina, looking for the opening. I started too high, but moved down a little, taking it slow and easy.

“A little lower,” she murmured, and arched her back a little to facilitate my discovery. And there it was.

She opened her eyes and looked into mine as I eased those fingers inside her as far as they would go, then curled them up and caressed the wall inside.

She jerked a little in response, muttered, “Bingo!” and grinned a little.

I kissed upward on her body and soon had as much of a breast in my mouth as I could, which was darn near all of it, and tickled the nipple with my tongue.

I’d moved a little to the side so that I straddled her thigh. Her hand found my cock and began rubbing and pulling. Her other hand joined it and then moved down to my balls, playing lightly with them.

I switched to the other breast. Her left nipple was as tasty as her right one. I sucked and licked and tasted while remembering to keep my fingers inside her.

Her touch and the Viagra had done their work well. I was fully erect.

“Hey, lover, I have a suggestion. Bring this beautiful cock up here where I can get my mouth on it while you go back to exploring my womanly charms with yours. You found my clit, and now it’s ready to be tasted and tongue-cuddled.”

“Your wish is my command.” But before I did I started thrusting my two fingers in an out of her vagina, as far in as possible, then out and in again hard and fast and she gasped, said, “Wait. Don’t stop. Keep going, even faster if you can.”

I did my best, which must have been good enough. I was rewarded with her first orgasm of the night.

She squinched her eyes shut and clamped her legs together on my hand and bucked her hips like a rodeo bronco. She gushed, drenching my hand in her love juice. I eased off the speed of the penetrations but continued to clutch her love tunnel and rub my fingertips against the upper front wall. I kissed her hard on the mouth, tongue penetrating her lips as it had her other lips minutes ago. She kissed back with frantic orgasmic passion, her tongue welcoming mine and pushing back.

After a subjective hour or so we separated.

“That was terrific. Any chance I can have more of those?”

“I certainly hope so. Did you want to continue with the program?”

“Yes! Get that erection up here so I can get a mouthful. And you can return your supposedly inexperienced lips and tongue to pleasing my pussy and caressing my clit.”

“Yes, ma’am. Top or bottom?”

“Let’s switch. You can relax a little better while you work.”

We repositioned ourselves, applying kisses to various body parts as we did so. I had to withdraw my fingers, and I licked them clean of her juices. It seemed she couldn’t wait to get my dick in her mouth and it felt like heaven. My cock hadn’t been treated so well in too many years.

“That feels incredible, and it’s been a very long time. I’ll try to hold back, but do you want me to warn you if I’m going to come?”

She let it go long enough to answer. “Hell, no. You just keep doing my thing while I do yours, and if you pop I’ll treat it as a bonus. Won’t be the first I’ve swallowed, and hopefully not the last.” And she went back to her pleasuring.

I wasted no time doing the same.

It was more awkward from this position. Her clit was more difficult for my tongue to reach. I brought both hands up to help, fingers separating her labia, revealing the soft moist walls of her pink paradise and the details within.

I found it again.

I put the tip of my tongue on it and swirled around, licking the slick little button and feeling it grow a tiny amount. I grasped her hips with both hands and lifted them and brought her whole body a few inches toward my mouth. That made her clit a bit more convenient and I got my lips around it and treated it like I’d treated her nipples, sucking, licking, even nibbling a little.

She clamped her lips hard around my cock but stopped moving as she tensed everything and bucked her crotch against my face, baptizing my lips with her home-made brew. More than my lips, actually. Most of my face was well coated with her feminine fluid.

I pulled away for a moment. “Supposedly the Fountain of Youth was in Florida. But I found it right here. You definitely have a fountain between your legs, and I’m feeling younger by the minute.

“Also, now I know what a glazed donut feels like.”

She laughed at that one.

I shifted away from her.

“A hundred years or so ago there was a tee-shirt that said ‘Injection is nice but I’d rather be blown.’ Well, I prefer injection and I’m feeling the time is right. How about you, Kels? Ready for good old-fashioned intercourse?”

Wordlessly she scooted around 180 degrees. She raised her hips enough to fit my erection snugly into her velvet tunnel, then kissed me on the lips and chin and cheeks, obviously relishing the taste of herself.

She whispered, “Yes, I am. Put me on my back and fuck me silly. Put me on my hands and knees and fuck me from behind. Stroke your delicious cock in and out of me until we both explode in gigantic soul-searing orgasms.” Then she kissed me hard again, her tongue frantically hunting for mine, finding it, and fucking my tongue with hers. Figuratively speaking, of course.

I did as she asked. Except I didn’t.

“Should I wear a rubber?”

“Hell, no! I don’t want a muffler on that gun. Just shoot straight and hard.”

I remembered how to delay my orgasm, but remembering and doing are not the same. I stroked in and out, looking down on her perspiration-covered breasts and the dew drops on her cheeks and upper lip. I kissed again, her breasts and nipples and my pelvis took over, stroking in and out faster and faster and I lost my control.

“Oops. Sorry, my Dear, but paradise is proving too much for me. I’m going to pop.”

“Then pop! Give it to me. Look me in the eyes and let yourself go and don’t stop till you’re done.”

“No chance of that.” Then I shut up and looked into her deep dark eyes and tensed up as I orgasmed into her.

She arched her pelvis to mine, taking all of me she could, and orgasmed with me, squinching her eyes shut and muttering a long “Oooo” as she did.

We stayed tensed for another minute, then relaxed into a duet of sweating, gasping and chuckling players.

I rolled off her as I slipped out but didn’t stop kissing and touching her, caressing her legs and hips with my fingers and her arms and shoulders with my lips.

“Some men,” she said, “just roll over and go to sleep.”

“Would you prefer that? I’ll admit I’m ready to nod off after a long day, but it seems…well…discourteous, I guess. I feel like I should wait for you to at least close your eyes.”

She turned her head and kissed me. “Let’s do that. Rest and recovery for chapter two.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be glad to have a nice warm female body to curl up to.”

“Likewise, except for a gender switch.” Then she closed her eyes, smiling a little, and seemed to go to sleep at once. I don’t remember anything after that until my damn bladder insisted I had things to do. We were actually lying back-to-back right then, and not even touching. The clock on the mini-dresser said 5:50.

I got out of bed as quietly and carefully as possible and padded around the foot of the bed to the bathroom. I shut the door and without turning on the light I sat down to pee. Yeah, I know, not super-masculine. Sue me. I don’t have to aim, don’t have to stand, and can stay at least half asleep while I do the necessary.

It had been almost eight hours since I took the Viagra, and they’re really only good for six or so. I located the pill bottle on the sink counter and took another in anticipation of morning exercises. I filled a glass of water from the sink to take the pill, then drank another swallow. I opened the door carefully and quietly, but she was awake, sitting on the edge of the bed obviously waiting on me. She hurried in. I lay down on the bed and rolled over to “my side” and lay there, looking into the semi-dark of the room and waiting for her.

Soon enough she came back to bed, lay down, and scooted her back into my front. I put my left arm over her ribs and twiddled a nipple while I kissed her shoulder. She gave a quick hum of approval and covered the back of my hand with hers.

“Since we’re both awake,” I murmured into the back of her shoulder, “how ’bout some more intimacy? Of the verbal kind? I’d like to know more about you.”

“Like what?”

“Like, are you married? Or were? Any kids? Steady boyfriend? Jealous lover who likes guns? Girl friend who likes threesomes? All that neat stuff.”

She was quiet for a couple of minutes and I wondered if she’d fallen back to sleep, or if she was going to decline to answer.

Finally, though, she responded. “Sorry to bust your bubble, but no girlfriend of that kind and if you’re going to be in a threesome, it won’t be with me. Also, no jealous gun-toting lover, no kids, no boyfriend. I’m married, but I’m not.” She was quiet again for a short time.

“I married Bob when I was twenty-five and we had a good marriage. Neither of us really wanted kids, though it would have been okay if I got pregnant. Then he got the seven-year-itch five years late. He started seeing a girl on the side. I don’t think they were having sex, but they were building up to it. She was a blonde, about five-four, with big tits and a nifty ass, but a narrow waist. He met her at work. He asked me for a no-fault divorce.”

After another quiet span of minutes, I asked, “Did he get it?”

“He did not. I guess I could have been a good sport about it, but he pissed me off. I told him he was welcome to buy me out of my half of the house and I’d move out. I’d keep one car and he could keep the other. He could keep his little girl friend and live like man and wife, but I would not sign any divorce papers. As I said, he’d pissed me off and I decided right away to make his new relationship as awkward as I could without actually interfering. But he had to understand tit for tat. If he could have another woman–or a dozen other women for all I cared–then I could have other men.

“That’s been the situation for over a year. I’d probably give him his divorce now if he asked, but he hasn’t asked again so I guess it’s not that important.”

“He traded you in for a big-breasted blonde? So he showed good taste when he married you, then his judgment went all to hell. Or are you just that terrible to live with?”

“Fair question. I don’t think so. I never really demanded anything from him…requested, of course, just as he did of me. We had a good marriage. That’s what pissed me off. It was good so far as I knew, and then suddenly it was over. If I didn’t mutt the custard some way, he never told me. It was just like he suddenly decided I wasn’t good enough and she was what he wanted.”

“Did you cry? Or is that too personal?”

“No, it’s not and yes, I did, just a little. Mostly because something I guess I’d taken for granted was suddenly taken away. That was the first night I spent alone while he stayed the night with her. That was also the last time.”

I kissed her on the back of shoulder again and moved my hand to her other breast, then down to her waist. We lay quiet for a time, until…

“So now it’s your turn?”

“My turn for what?”

“For the big reveal. Same questions: Married? Engaged? Jealous lover?”

I knew she’d ask, so I had my answer ready. “My situation is similar to yours, but for a different and sadder reason.

“Elizabeth and I have been married for over thirty years. No kids for us either. One or both of us is infertile, or maybe we’re just infertile to each other. We never bothered to narrow it down. She’s only fifty-six, by the way, and as good-looking as any forty-six year-old woman could hope for. Kept herself in good shape, good genes that kept her looking ten years younger than she was, and we still had good, though fairly routine, sex. Eighteen months ago recurring headaches and unexplained dizziness sent her to see a doctor.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Very much uh-oh. Brain tumor, and inoperable and no known therapy could do much more than extend her life six months, but those six months would be mostly illness, feeling like shit, and no hope for getting better.

“She said screw that. Bucket list time. Demanded the doctors give her prescriptions to ease the symptoms as much as possible and let her enjoy the time she had left.

“She explained that there were some things she wanted to do before she croaked over–her term–and would it be okay with me if she just went out on her own and did them? But she didn’t want a divorce. She wanted her obit to read Mrs., and survived by her husband and siblings.

“She also confessed that maybe in her travels she might get the desire to have sex with other people, maybe even an orgy, though she didn’t have any specific plans that way. So I should feel free to engage in whatever I might desire in that same category.

“She’d worked full time during our marriage, same as me, and had her own retirement account. I told her to cash that in, take the SUV, and live life to its fullest, but call me at least once a month, or email me, and fill me in on her whereabouts and adventures. She has. She’s about halfway through her allotted time and is indeed living it up. She’s been to Paris and Italy, dined at the top of the space needle in Seattle and stood at the four corners, two hands and two feet in four states at the same time. She sent me a pictures of that. She didn’t look sick, she looked triumphant.

“She also met some swingers in Colorado and did take part in an orgy. No pictures of that, though, darn it. I told her she could try to have sex in four states at once, but she said no, spending time in jail and court was not on her list.”

Kelsey turned around and kissed me on the cheek. “I’m sorry. She sounds like a great lady.”

I didn’t say anything. I kissed her back, but on the lips. Then I said thank you, so are you, and I turned over. She pressed her front to my back, put her arm over my chest, and we both went to sleep.

I woke up about two hours later. Again, we were sleeping back-to-back. What was wrong with us? Probably nothing–we were both used to sleeping alone and so unconsciously scooted away from the unfamiliar other body in the bed. We’d kept the room warm enough that we hadn’t slept under anything. We’d tossed the blanket and spread on the floor at the foot and made love, and slept, on top of the sheets.

I turned over and enjoyed a good long look at her bare thigh and hip and half-globe of her posterior. But especially the thigh and hip. That gorgeous glowing skin beckoned to me and I could not resist. I tried, thinking that I should let her sleep. But my selfish desire overruled my courtesy and I ran the tips of my fingers along the line of her hip and the outside of her thigh.

I leaned forward and kissed the soft outside of her hip and extended the soft kisses along her thigh to her knee.

She hummed with appreciation and turned toward me so she was lying on the leg and hip I had been kissing. Her eyes were closed but she was smiling. “Now this side, please,” she murmured.

I obliged, then moved my attentions upward, kissing the side of her waist and the outside of her breast, then up to shoulder, neck, throat, chin, and finally softly on that half smile. During that delightful journey, while my left hand helped keep my balance the right hand had been caressing the inside of her thighs, as much as possible since her legs were together, and offering gentle penetrations between her labia.

I kissed her lips; she rolled onto her back as she returned the kiss and then opened her mouth in invitation for a deeper and longer kiss. Her right hand reached out and found my cock and rubbed it and pulled it gently, coaxing it into a full-on erection. She spread her legs and her left hand went over my right and guided my fingers into her moistening sex.

She whispered. “Fred, climb on and make love to me. Put it in and stroke me inside and touch me outside and make me feel loved.”

I did as requested, whispered back, “You are loved,” and gave her long strokes, slow and deep. I kissed her lips and cheeks and chin and throat and that little valley behind her collar bone.

Without warning, as I buried myself as deeply as possible, I put all my weight on her, then reached under her hips with both hands and rolled us over so she was on top. We almost rolled off the bed and I hurriedly arched my back and moved us toward the middle. She didn’t quite scream, but she did squeak a little with surprise, then granted me a short laugh.

“I like this better,” I whispered. “Now I can love you with my hands instead of supporting my weight with them.”

“Good idea. But why are you whispering?”

I reached up with both hands and caressed her breasts, rubbing her nipples with my thumbs. I sat up and kissed the space between her breasts, and then her chin, and her lips.

“Because whispers are intimate.”

I kissed her breasts, relishing the taste and response of her nipples. My fingers caressed her flanks and thighs and the top of her behind. She leaned forward, bracing her hands on my chest, and began to move her hips side to side, back and forth, up and down, enjoying the way the various movements felt with my erection inside her. I reached to where we were joined and pressed my thumb against her clitoral hood and massaged it in tiny circles. She inhaled sharply, then offered a low moan of pleasure.

“When you said I am loved, did you mean the way Greg loved Olivia? Just for right now, with no promise for the future even as far as tomorrow?”

“Yes, but without the ‘just.’ Kel, I may be old fashioned, but I’ve never had sex with a woman I didn’t like. If I have no affection for her, why bother? Might as well use my hand.”

“I like the way you’re using your hands right now. Especially your thumb.” She closed her eyes, let her head fall backwards, and just surrendered to her approaching orgasm. And then it arrived. Her whole body tensed, her hands clutched my thighs, and through her clenched teeth she whispered, “Oh my god.”

As the ecstasy passed, she slumped forward, rested her forearms on my chest and kissed me with frantic yearning, lips and tongue searching mine, finding, and sharing with uninhibited passion.

I did not come. I expected to, but managed to hold back by concentrating on–disgusting as this may sound–work. I’m an inventory trouble-shooter at work, and I thought about three of the different problems waiting for me when I went back to work on Monday. It worked–pun intended.

Then I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed her up just a little. She helped and supported herself about one foot above me. I started stroking and she responded, searching for the exact right–“oh, god, G-spot!” she thrust her hips forward and back frantically, just a few inches, and came again.

Her thrusts rubbed wonderfully against the underside of the head of my cock, and I thrust deep one time and orgasmed along with her, both of us petrified with pleasure. It lasted an hour, at least. Subjectively, of course.

When we both found voluntary movement possible, she relaxed on me and I cuddled her close. We fell back to sleep. I did, anyway, and I’m assuming she fell with me.

We both woke up a couple of hours later.

The Viagra was giving me my money’s worth. Morning wood was no longer a regular thing with me, but I liked having it this time; I had a pretty and naked lady sharing the bed.

Unfortunately, the morning was shorter than I would have liked. Kelsey was scheduled to keep score for a shooting match and it started well before noon…and was a least a forty-minute drive away.

Shorter, but not too short. There was room in the shower for both of us and we enjoyed scrubbing each other. About halfway through she bent over and I eased my still-hard cock into her soft and ready pussy.

It was a delightful interlude with the hot water and soap and we kissed and groped enthusiastically, but not as long as I’d have liked. Then we cleaned each other off, dried each other off along with kisses and caresses, and got dressed.

We both made sure we hadn’t left anything in the room; she ducked quickly into hers to check, just to be certain, and we took the elevator downstairs and checked out.

I escorted her to her car. She tossed her bag into the backseat, then turned to me.

“Sorry I have to leave so soon. Business is business.”

“I’m sorry too. But we’ll see each other at work.”

We kissed, hard, but not too long.

She got into the driver’s seat but didn’t close the door right away.

I said, “Enjoy keeping score on the shooting.”

“I will. I like it. But I liked scoring your shooting even more.”

“Wonderful. As are you. I hope to be able to shoot for you again real soon.”

She gave me an air kiss. “Maybe we can make this a regular event. I’d like that.”

“So would I. We can discuss it Monday.”

She nodded and drove off. I realized I should have invited myself to follow her and watch the competition myself. Oh, well, maybe next time.

I was pretty happy knowing there would be a next time. My gun had been in its holster far too long.

END