On upwards his eyes moved, over the single strand of pearls that accented her long neck. The color of her lips matched her nails making the blue of he... eyes sparkle. He realized, too late, that she was watching him also and a tiny smile crept over her lips. Her long red hair was piled loosely on her head covering tiny streaks of gray that matched her years. ‘About 55’ he thought, ‘Perfect age.’ She stepped out slowly. Moving towards him with a fluid motion that made her look as if she had been. There before me stood a woman of forty, in the throes of pleasure, writhing for more. There before me in a white lace bra (that hid mouth-watering nipples, large and puffy behind their net) was five-feet-eight-inches of creamy spa-kept skin; and an experienced rosebud, fully waxed sans underwear, just as I liked it. I couldn't help myself. I bent down: the smell of her sweet vagina was intoxicating, but it would have to wait. I knelt before her, and rubbed my day old stubble on her soft tummy.. More

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