I love my job. I feel I was built for what I do. Last night, like so many others, I had the absolute pleasure of spending the evening with a beautiful woman nearly twice my age. We enjoyed a fine dinner followed by drinks before we retired to her place. She is one of my regulars, and we’ve been intimate before, but last night, she preempted that she just wanted to fall asleep in my arms, with the caveat being that I spent the night. Sleepovers aren’t normally on the menu, but there are some regulars that I’m tickled to make the exception for. She requested a bath when we arrived at her place, and so I ran the water to a perfect 102 degrees.
She has a classic Roman tub with a reading chair next to it so that I can read to her, which she often enjoys, or like tonight, I use the chair to bathe her and brush out her long silver-gray hair. I had already showered while running her bath before I put on the staple of my work clothes, medical scrub pants. Tonight, we’re happy in the silence, and I thought it would be nice to massage her tired feet whilst she soaked. After taking my time combing her hair, I scooch the chair parallel to the tub, and I picked up her one foot up into my lap. It wasn’t long before she was purring like a kitten, and I moved to the other side to repeat. I kept adding hot water to keep the tub at a cozy temperature, and eventually, I caught her head bobbing, so I pulled the drain, helped her to her feet, and towel-dried her with a heated towel before assisting her in stepping out of the tub. I wrapped her in a light robe as we retired to her bed. “Spend the night,” she asked, and I tilted her chin up to my soft lips and replied: “As you wish.”
I’ve learned her over time and know with almost absolute certainty that she wasn’t feeling amorous and wanted company, or so I thought. “Read to me,” and I know that my reading to her is more a means to an end than anything else. My slow reading would normally drive her mad, but when reading leisurely, she enjoys my deep, monotone voice that drones her to sleep. I was sitting up against the backboard as she snuggled into my side. She traced my abs and stroked my chest, but it felt like she might have gotten a second wind as her strokes eventually detoured down over my manhood. She likes to drive, and I’m just a reliable navigator. Soon into her scenic detour, her strokes over my manhood woke him, and her nails tracing my cock over my scrubs had him stretching out like a happy cat. I knew reading time was over when she pulled the strings of my scrubs. She then pulled my waistband down to mid-thigh, where my cock poked its head out like a meerkat. I attempted to continue reading until she lowered her mouth around my cock. “Keep on reading,” she directed.
She pushed my pants off until all was presented like an open buffet. Her oral skills are second to none, as she’s been doing it for over thirty years. I love her slow, deliberate pace as she takes my nine inches easily. It’s already been established that I’m not the best orator, and it was getting exponentially more challenging to attempt to ignore her talents. Between her hot, succulent mouth, her soft, manicured hand stroking my cock and undercarriage, my words soon turned into pants bordering on pleas for sweet mercy. It wasn’t long before I dropped the book to massage her long, flowing gray locks before lifting them to watch. She likes to be watched as she shows off. Her pace didn’t change, and it was more the visual that caused me to coat her throat the first time. Due to her slow and consistent pace, I was able to maintain as she swallowed my hot seed before rising to ride.
She let her robe drop to her haunches as she rode me at the same deliberate pace as before. This was her rodeo, and she didn’t want to be thrown. She enjoys the consistent trot, and it does permit me the staying power. I got to watch her beautiful orgasm build slowly until she shook in the saddle and collapsed into my embrace for a soft kiss with tears in her eyes. It used to throw me for a loop, but I’ve grown accustomed to weeping during sex and understand it to be a form of venting. She continued to jerk and jump while her undulating hips continued until she plateaued enough to go again. “Make love to me” was the request and my pleasure. I wrapped my arm around her waist and turned our bodies until she was under me. “Kiss me,” she asked, knowing that my oral fixation would cause me to drive deeper. I wiped the remnants of her tears and met her soft lips and tongue as I undulated inside her like I was riding my board over the waves, keeping the same deliberate pace that always works best for us.
“I’m going to cum again,” she ultimately whispered between our kisses, causing my cock to swell painfully inside her in anticipation. I don’t recall how long it took us to get there because she never prefers an aggressive pace, which was a nice lesson for me to learn early in life. It’s the steady turtle pace that wins the race and makes the orgasm that much more delicious. “Can I cum?” She nods her head yes as I look into her damp doe eyes. She captures my face in her hands as we both, again, watch each other’s climax build. That alone is enough to get us off, and it was the slow, quiet crescendo where we met and washed each other in orgasm before I assumed my place beside her and she, exhausted from the full tummy, bath, massage, and slow satiating lovin, snuggled into my side again and quickly drifted asleep.
Happy Hump Day!
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