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By *ongh OP Man
over a year ago
cardiff |
I opened the French doors and placed the cushion taken from the lounge on to one of the patio chairs, making it more comfortable to sit on. I went back into the house, picked up my can of and adjusted the volume of the stereo so that it was loud enough for me to hear without disturbing the neighbours unduly, or so I hoped. It was a beautiful mid-July night, around 7.30, and I had the house to myself. My parents were away on holiday, both older brothers had left the nest and I was back home for the summer at the end of my first year at university, a year in which the girl who had entered her freshman year a virgin had returned home a woman, or so I liked to think, having finally discovered the joys of sex. I had finally let my hair grow too, looking more the attractive young woman I was than I ever had.
Not that there hadn’t been plenty of opportunities to discover the joys before then. I had had my share of boyfriends at school and sixth form but, to be honest, I had always found boys of my own age a little immature, know what I mean, girls? Biologically I knew it to be the case that girls developed before boys, so that would have helped explain why I felt that way. I also thought that having two older brothers may have helped contribute. I was five years younger than my nearest brother and almost seven younger than my oldest. As such, I was always a bit of a tomboy, I suppose, and I was just as used to tagging along behind them and their friends as I was with friends my own age.
So it was no surprise, at least to me, that I was to lose my virginity to an older boy during my first term away. Well, to a man really, a mature, 30 year old student doing the same course as me. He was divorced, had a couple of children, had experienced life if what he told me was to be believed, and, to my mind, seemed so much more mature and sophisticated than the students of my own age. As well as in lectures, I would see him in the library and sometimes we would study together and go for coffee when a break was needed. I was flattered by his attentions and he was not unattractive.
Soon enough, he had asked me out for a drink and, although we only kissed on that first date, by the end of it I knew that we would have sex before long. Sure enough, at the end of the commemoration ball which was held in the middle of each first term of the academic year, we went back to my room in the hall of residence I was staying in and he took me. I won’t bore you with the details here other than to say that the earth didn’t move as such but it was an enjoyable experience, one I was to repeat frequently throughout the rest of that term and the next without it quite ever hitting the heights I had expected. I never did find out what was being officially commemorated but for each subsequent year at uni that time always had a special meaning for me. We split early on in the third term when his wandering eyes and hands led him into the arms of another student, a one night stand, he claimed. One night too many, I said, and we parted company. I remained chaste throughout the rest of that term despite the best attempts of some of the other male students but remained on the pill, just in case.
Meatloaf was playing on the stereo, the Bat Out Of Hell LP. A strange choice, you might think, but my musical tastes had been greatly influenced by my older brothers’, and I was soon singing along quietly to myself. “You took the words right out of my mouth . . .” I was singing when they were, figuratively if not literally. Well hello Mary Lou, I heard a familiar voice say, I thought I heard a noise. I glanced to my right and saw Mr Haynes staring over the fence, smiling at me. Oh hi, Mr Haynes, I said, I’m sorry if I disturbed you, I’ll turn it down. The Haynes’ had been our next door neighbours all of my life and he always called me Mary Lou when first addressing me even though he knew my name was Louise Mary, a throwback to his love for rock and roll. He lived there with his wife and they were good friends of my parents. Their only child was a daughter, some 10 years or so older than me, who had married and settled down in another town nearby.
He was in his early 50s, of a stocky, powerful build but with a bit of a belly, “bought and paid for” he always said and he would pat it. When he did this, it did not wobble and so appeared solid and not in the least flabby. He had a kind, handsome face, laughter lines spreading from his eyes and I can’t ever recall seeing him without a smile on his face. His crown was bald, the bald pate being surrounded on the sides and back by short cropped dark hair which was greying at the edges and temples, adding a distinguished look. His bald crown always looked tanned and healthy, as did his face, presumably due to the amount of time he spent in the garden. From my bedroom I would occasionally hear him pottering outside, whistling or singing to himself as he worked and I would get up to have a look, his infectious good humour never ceasing to bring a smile to my face. On the odd occasion when the weather was particularly hot, he would be gardening topless. The bottoms of his arms, covered in dark hairs, were noticeably darker than the tops, evidence of their greater exposure to the sun. His chest, also covered in thick, dark hair, was of a similar colour to the tops of his arms.
He had kissed me once, accidently. It was on his 50th birthday a couple of summers previously at around this time, I recalled. His wife had thrown a surprise party for him as he had not wanted a fuss. The party was in full swing when I arrived, slightly after my parents. Still very much the tomboy, I had climbed over the small garden fence which separated our houses and entered the house through the French doors of the conservatory. He saw me enter and came to greet me looking slightly flushed, merry but far from d*unk. Well hello Mary Lou, singing it this time, as he sometimes did. I smiled at the familiar refrain and said happy birthday, Mr Haynes, I’m sorry I haven’t got you a present. That’s OK, Lou, he said, I’ll settle for a birthday kiss today, you can give me your present another time. He leant in as if to kiss me on the cheek, putting his arms loosely around me, but either I or he miss read the direction and so instead of kissing on the cheek he kissed me briefly on the lips. Sorry, he said, I was aiming for the cheek and we both laughed. Can we start again, he continued and again he leant in, this time aiming for the other side but exactly the same thing happened. We both laughed again and he said third time for good luck and this time he kissed me quickly on the lips. He let go of me and ushered me into the lounge and I would have forgotten all about it except for the fact that I had enjoyed the taste, the softness of his lips on mine.
No, it isn’t disturbing me, he said, though I think something more soothing on a beautiful evening like this would be more appropriate, don’t you, he added, his eyes twinkling in merriment. Actually, I was just opening a bottle of wine to drink in the conservatory when I thought I heard cats fighting and came out to investigate, he said, laughing. Meeeooow, I said in my best imitation of a cat and asked how his wife was, remembering that I had not seen her that day. She’s fine, he answered, she’s actually away at her sister’s for a few days. Heard from your folks, yet, he asked, knowing that they were on holiday. Yes, I said, I spoke to them earlier, they’re having a great time, I finished, picking up my can and taking a sip. What’s that you’re drinking, he asked, and I told him. Fancy sharing a nice cold bottle of Pinot Grigio instead, he asked, I can do with some company and you can tell me all about uni. That’s very generous of you I said. Great, he said. Hop over the fence and join me in the conservatory.
I went to turn off the music and locked the patio doors. Mr Haynes was still waiting on the other side of the fence. It had been a while since I’d climbed over but it wasn’t high. Let me give you a hand, he said, taking hold of my left hand in a firm, warm grip, as I clambered over, trying not to fall and make a fool of myself. I was surprised at how soft his hands were. Once I was steady on my feet on the other side, I noticed that he was wearing shorts revealing strong, firm legs which, like the rest of his body, were covered in dark hairs. His short sleeved shirt was undone a couple of buttons revealing a clump of dark, luxuriant chest hair. He gestured me towards the familiar conservatory and I entered. As conservatory’s go, it was quite large. An old low slung, large three seater leather sofa, still in good condition, dominated most of it, the other seats comprising two wicker armchairs typically found in them. Both were piled high with old records. Excuse the mess, he said, but I’m having a nostalgia trip. Please make yourself comfortable, I’ll get you a glass. A small occasional table was placed in front of the far side of the sofa on top of which was a wine bucket containing a bottle of wine. Mr Haynes’s half empty goblet was also on the table. I sat down at the other end of the sofa, leaving the middle seat free. Mr Haynes returned with a wine goblet and poured a large measure. Don’t believe in half measures and I know what you students are like, he laughed as he handed me the glass and sat down next to me. He picked up his own glass. Cheers, he said, and we clinked glasses. I took a large sip, enjoying the refreshing coldness as it slipped down my throat.
Although there was a small space between us, I was aware of the warmth being generated from his body and I could make out the pleasing scent of his cologne, light and fragrant, ideal for a night such as this. We chatted, well I did most of the talking, answering in depth the questions asked about uni. The inevitable question of boyfriends turned up and I explained about my brief affair, though not going into to detail. I hesitated when he had asked what had happened. Tell me to mind my own business, he said kindly, concerned that he might have hurt me. No, it’s OK, he said. I hadn’t told my parents I had had a boyfriend but felt sufficiently comfortable with Mr Haynes to unburden myself on him. It felt good, too, and I was glad that I had done so. We were both silent for a while and I lowered my gaze. Mr Haynes took hold of my hand in one of his and squeezed it softly. He gently touched underneath my chin and I looked up into his concerned, kind eyes. I’m sorry, he said, I’m sure that you’ll meet someone more deserving of your love.
There was a short pause punctuated by the shrill ringing of the telephone. He let go of my hand. Excuse me, he said, that will be Dora, and he got up to answer. Dora was his wife. Through the open door of the lounge I could hear one side of the conversation, Mr Haynes making no attempt to keep his voice down, asking how his wife and sister were, that sort of thing. Actually, I’m entertaining a young lady, I heard him say and he laughed. My ears picked up. Yes, that’s right, I heard him say, she was out on the patio so I invited her round for a glass of wine. I had to do something to make her turn off that awful music. Yes, she’s heard from them, they’re having a great time. Then he shouted through, Dora says hello Lou and I shouted back Hi Mrs Haynes. See you on Monday, I heard him say, love you too, he finished and put the phone down.
He came back into the conservatory, emptied the remains of the wine bottle into his goblet and said I’ll go and get another bottle. He returned after a couple of minutes and filled my goblet, which was almost empty, before topping up his own up. Now, where were we, he asked, taking hold of my hand again. His next question surprised me. Is he the reason that you grew your hair, he asked and, as he did so, he used his free hand to brush the hair behind my ear. In part, I said, but in truth I’d been thinking of doing it for a while having decided it was time to become more feminine. It suits you, he said, you’re a very beautiful young woman. I blushed slightly, unused to such a compliment. Do you remember my 50th birthday party, he asked. Of course I remembered as it had only been a couple of years earlier. Do you remember the birthday kiss, he continued. I remembered that too and blushed slightly again, remembering the brief kisses on the lips, how soft they had felt at the time. I kept trying to kiss this cheek, he said, and with that he softly ran his fingers down the cheek he had exposed by pushing back my hair, but I kept missing, he continued softly. I’ve been wondering what it would taste like ever since. Do you remember that I said you could give me my present another time, he asked quietly, and I remembered, dismissing it at the time. Well, it’s my birthday today, he said, and I’d like my present now.
I looked up and into his eyes which penetrated deeply into my own, recognising as if for the first time what a beautiful dark brown colour they were, feeling the passion burning within them. He bent forward and ever so softly, ever so briefly, ever so gently brushed his lips against my cheek. I closed my eyes and held my breath as he did so, that brief touch on my cheek feeling as intimate as any touch on any part of my body had ever felt. I sighed audibly and opened my eyes again. He was looking directly into them, his eyes seemingly smiling as wide as the smile on his mouth and lips. Sweeter than I had ever imagined, he said. May I kiss it again he asked and, without waiting for me to reply, leant in again and kissed the same cheek, a longer caress this time, tongue as well as lips gently roving across my skin towards my lips. As he did so, he let go of my hand and used it to caress my other cheek, gently turning my head more towards his, gently pushing my lips closer to his.
Our lips met and I recalled how soft that brief birthday kisses had been. My memory had not played tricks. His tongued probed for an entrance and I opened to let him in, tongues entwined and probing, exploring, learning, exciting. Mouths locked, his hands moved down my body, gently caressing, cupping and squeezing my breasts, moving lower to my waist, down to my exposed thighs, the touch of his fingertips on the inside of my bare legs inflaming my desire. His hands moved back up my body and he pulled me closer to him, my breasts pushed into his chest and I marvelled at how warm and firm his body felt, breathing in and drowning in his scent. I wrapped my arms around him too and we remained coupled in this way.
His hands explored up and down my back and found the clasp to my bra. With the touch of an expert, it was soon undone and the straps started to fall but the cups stayed in place, the tightness of our embrace securing them. He pulled away slightly and ran one hand up the inside front of my t-shirt, locating the bra which he released, pulled down and out, freeing my breasts from their prison. The kiss broke and I gasped for air as his mouth and tongue began to kiss my neck which I arched in pleasure. My hands fumbled at the buttons on his shirt, located and managed to undo the remaining buttons and moved inside, releasing more of his fragrant cologne which, mixed with his more manly, natural scent, created a heady, intoxicating mix. I explored his chest with my hands, luxuriating in the mass of hair.
He moved down from my neck, exploring my concealed breasts with his hands, those soft sensitive hands sending shivers of desire through me as his mouth and tongue kissed and licked me through the fabric of my t-shirt. His mouth located an erect nipple which he licked and then teased with his teeth before moving across to do the same to the other. As his mouth worked my nipples, his hands pulled up my t-shirt. He had to withdraw his mouth to pull it over my head, exposing my naked chest. He cupped each breast in a hand and looked at me again. Beautiful he breathed, absolutely beautiful, and then he kissed me again, this time with more urgency, even more passion.
He stood up and removed his shirt, exposing fully his broad, manly chest. I looked down his body and from my position sunk low on the leather sofa his groin was almost at eye level. He still had his shorts on but his erection was clearly visible, straining at the fabric. I gazed at it in wonder, imagining how it would look and feel once released, imagining how it would taste, imagining how it would feel inside me, filling me, possessing me. He pulled me to my feet and we kissed again, hands exploring bodies which, in my case, were soon drawn to his cock as if it was a magnet. I grasped it and we both groaned, mine in wonderment at how it felt. I could tell that it was larger than my old boyfriend’s, longer, wider, heavier and more powerful and I shuddered in anticipation at the levels of ecstasy it would raise me to.
His hands moved down and found my buttocks which he squeezed and caressed as if they were my breasts, then he moved his hands round to my front, undid the buttons of my skirt and tugged it down so that it dropped to the floor, allowing me to step out of it, kicking off my flip-flops and leaving me naked except for my skimpy, plain, white, virgin-like panties and at that point I wished that I still was a virgin, wished that I had saved myself for a moment such as this.
He dropped to his knees and used his mouth and tongue down the length of my body, kissing and licking, sending increased tingling sensations of desire through me. He ran his tongue under the rim of my panties but made no attempt to remove them. He continued on his downward journey, the saliva from his kisses and licking adding to the moistness of my panties as my juices flowed. Through the fabric of my panties he kissed, licked and used his teeth on my pussy, making me even wetter. As he did so, he moved his hands back to my buttocks, put them inside my panties and slowly inched them down so that eventually they fell to the floor of their own accord leaving me exposed and naked in front of him, his to do whatever he desired with.
He stood and pulled me into him again and we kissed passionately. I could feel his cock pressing into me. It was my turn to finish undressing him and I did so quickly, only one button on his shorts, a zip which easily pulled down, and they were soon on the floor. To my surprise he was not wearing any underpants and so his cock was released as soon as his shorts dropped. He had already removed his sandals without my noticing. Now it was my turn to drop to my knees, eager to taste, to smell. His foreskin was already pulled back, trapped behind the beautiful head. Pre-cum glistened on the end and I licked it eagerly, cupping his heavy, swollen, potent balls in my hand. I took the head in my mouth and used my mouth to suck gently on it and worked down the shaft, fitting in as much as I could. He made no attempt to force more in, content to let me enjoy at my own comfort.
He was close enough to the sofa to sit down and did so as I continued to suck him, loving the taste and feel, occasionally licking his balls, trying to take more of his thick, engorged penis in my mouth. As he did so, he stretched forward and played with my breasts, rolling my nipples between his finger and thumb, pinching them every now and again. I came up for air and his hand caressed underneath my chin. I looked up at him and knelt up and we kissed again as his hands massaged my breasts. Stand up, he said, and I did so. He leant forward and he licked underneath my breasts, moving slowly down my belly until he reached my wet pussy which he kissed, licked and chewed on softly, tenderly. Tongue was joined by finger as he teased my expectant opening and he slid in easily, slowly fucking me with his finger, which was soon been joined by another. Sensations I had never known before flowed through me as I climaxed, groaning in ecstasy.
He withdrew his fingers and licked them before offering me a taste of myself. I lapped up eagerly. He sat back again and said up here, patting the space next to him. Lie back, he said, and I did, resting my head against the low arm of the sofa. He sat forward and I was able to put my leg behind him. He moved position and knelt on the sofa, between my legs which I raised automatically. He inched forward and leant into me, kissing my lips, mouth and then breasts. I could feel him pushing against my entrance and I yielded, willingly, and he entered me slowly, adjusting position for maximum comfort for both of us before he started to fuck me. Are you OK, he asked, as he began to thrust slowly, short strokes, each one taking me to heights never previously reached. My groans told him all he needed to know. I looked into his face and he was looking directly into my eyes again, smiling serenely. Beautiful, absolutely beautiful he whispered, fits like a glove. His thrusts became longer and more powerful, each one drawing a gasp of pleasure from me as I clamped and contracted around him. The rate increased and I could tell that he was about to cum. He thrust deep into me and I clamped around him as hard as I could and we held that position, climaxing together, his sperm filling me. He collapsed on top of me and I wrapped my arms and legs around him, both of us breathing heavily, reluctant to let go of him. Happy birthday, I said, eventually. He kissed me deeply. Thanks you, he said, for the best birthday present ever.
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