by Jolie Du Prè
And then there was a Sybian that made her vibrators look like they were made for amateurs. A redhead had been using the Sybian as if she was riding a bull or a young stud. She’d risen upon and down enough so the observer could see the machine’s pulsating dildo work its apparent wonders. The girl was clearly an exhibitionist. Ginger hadn’t realized she might be a voyeur until she began to cream watching and listening to the girl. Annette had suggested giving the machine a try once the redhead finished, but Ginger shook her head. No way in hell would she get on that apparatus. She sipped her Cabaret Sauvignon. Maybe she could rent one. Maybe in the privacy of her bedroom. It did look like a wild ride.
Sipping her wine, Ginger stole a peek down the bar. The dark-haired guy and the two hotties had gone. She snickered—Annette thought he was interested in her? So much for that theory.
“I appreciate a full-bodied . . .”
Startled, Ginger nearly slipped off the stool. A strong hand settled on her shoulder, steadying her. Embarrassed, she stared up into dark brown eyes. “Oh, my. Where are your girlfriends?”
She hadn’t said that. Had she? Puzzlement turned to humor on his face. Yes, she’d definitely made a fool of herself. Well, it wasn’t the first time.
“May I sit down?” The voice, while well modulated, wasn’t as deep as she’d expected.
Trying to seem self-assured, she nodded. From where he stood, he had a clear view down her too-flimsy blouse to watch her nipples blossom. Well, at least he couldn’t see her toes curl or her loins tighten. She shut her eyes briefly as he pulled the stool out next to her.
She did have at least an hour to kill. There wasn’t anything wrong with sharing conversation with the guy. She thought of Annette and Jack. There wasn’t anything wrong with what they were doing either, but that was them and this was her. She’d recognized that look on Annette’s face when Jack invited her to join them. Ginger had her share of girl/girl flings in college to know what was behind Annette’s smile. Why hadn’t she noticed that before? Wouldn’t Annette be surprised to learn she was much more attracted to her than she’d ever be to a guy like Jack?
“Hey.” A knee grazed her bare thigh. “I know I can be boring at times. But the ladies usually don’t go to sleep on me right away.”
Ginger’s eyes popped wide open. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to ignore you.”
“You seemed to be doing a fairly good job of it. Can we start over? I’m Nathan Samson. I haven’t seen you around here before. I’ve noticed your friend in here several times, but not you. I think I would’ve noticed.”
Ginger shook his extended hand, aware that he was flirting. She hadn’t been flirted with by anyone for decades. She’d had plenty of men before Harold, but not since they became engaged. It took her way too long to discover Harold had been playing around for years. And he’d finally found his “true love”—a twenty-year old cheerleader at the university. She didn’t doubt the girl would have Harold hung out to dry before long. But that was his problem, not hers.
“So you do have a name?”
“I’m sorry. Again.” She heaved a sigh. “I’m not accustomed to talking with strangers like this. My name is Ginger.” She hesitated. “Let’s just leave it at that.”
Nathan nodded. “That’s fine. Ginger is a nice name. As I said when I first tried to get your attention, I appreciate a full-bodied wine.”
Feeling herself flush, Ginger gave him a small smile. She’d thought he was talking about her, and he knew it. “Yes, a quality Cabernet is definitely full-bodied and robust. So you’re a wine connoisseur?”
“I like wines.” His lips curled into a smile. “I’m a connoisseur of most things full-bodied.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks heated. He had been talking about her. It was a long time since she’d engaged in this kind of repartee. Too long. She decided to take up the offensive. Wasn’t that supposed to be the best defense? And she suddenly felt the need for a good defense.
Nathan Samson was indeed easy on the eyes—dark hair, Roman nose, solid chin, and penetrating brown eyes. How could he be so young? How young was he? Way too young. Annette had led a mid-thirties guy out of here just minutes ago. But that was Annette. She swallowed. And this was her. And there was no misreading the lust growing in those brown eyes that didn’t hide their appreciation for a particular full body—hers.
“Where are your girlfriends? I thought they’d have you in one the bedrooms by now.”
He chuckled. “Why would you think that?”
“They were draped all over you. Isn’t that every guy’s fantasy—two girls satisfying his every whim?”
“Whoa, lady. Draw your talons back in.” He gave her a brilliant smile. “I do like a woman who isn’t afraid to use her fingernails but . . .”
She scowled taking in his meaning.
“Besides. That really depends on the women.”
“Huh?”
“Being with two women can be fantastic, but they have to be the right two women.”
“Oh.” She glared at her wine. She’d gotten them into this discussion. How could she get them on safer ground? “How old are you?” She’d blurted out the question without warning—herself, or him.
“I’m twenty-five.” He pursed his lips. “Not that it matters, but how old are you?”
“Fifty-five,” she squeaked. “God, I am old enough to be your mother.”
His fingers slid along the top of a bare thigh. She swallowed hard but couldn’t find the energy to pull away.
He leaned over close to whisper in her ear. “Ginger, when I look at you I don’t see my mother.”
She didn’t have to look to know he was again looking down her blouse at her breasts. Damn Annette. No, she’d wanted to attract a man tonight—or at least, to tease one. This was her night to howl. But she’d wanted a silver haired man with a silver tongue. Not a boy younger than her youngest child.
“And,” Nathan continued, “I love how your nipples have grown twice in size since I’ve sat down here. Maybe they’re not as disinterested in me as you think.”
She pulled away and laced both hands around her wineglass for security. She had a decision to make. How far was she willing to go with Nathan the Youngster? His hand slid up her inner thigh. She tried to breathe. How could she have forgotten his hand? She’d been so eager to get away from his whispered words and warm breath.
“Why did you come to the club?” he asked softly. His hand stopped. “Don’t you find me a little bit attractive? I think you’re the most gorgeous woman in the house.”
“But I’m so old,” she protested, half heartedly.
“I love playing with an attractive, sexy, mature woman. Don’t you want to play with me?”
She couldn’t prevent a giggle. “Well, I can’t argue with the mature part.” She peeked around the room. As the night wore on more couples were becoming quite bold. More than one woman had her boobs bared and was grinding her crotch against a man. She wet her lips watching one woman gyrate between two men—one in front and one behind.
Following her line of sight, Nathan coaxed in her ear. “They’re having fun. So can we.” His hand started moving higher again.
She grabbed his hand before he found what he was searching for. “Not here. This is too public.”
“Of course.” Nathan stood and took her by the hand before she could change her mind. “I know a room that has plenty of privacy and is classy, befitting a lady like you.”
Ginger inhaled and took one more swallow of wine before throwing caution to the wind. She rose up on her toes to whisper in his ear. His fresh clean smell only served to embolden her.
“Hope you won’t be disappointed. I’ve never done anything like this, so I’m not promising anything.” She swirled her tongue around his ear. “But if you want to play with an old lady, who am I to stop you? I may be a little rusty, but I think I remember how the game is played.”
She knew it had to be the wine talking, but she didn’t care, not n
ow. Maybe in the morning. But probably not even then. Playing with Nathan Samson had to be better than spending the night staring at her divorce decree.
She leaned into the young man with his arm around her and let him guide her from the bar. She’d been married to Harold for over thirty years. Now she was about to step out into a sexual void with a man who hadn’t even been alive when her father walked her down the aisle to hand her off to Harold.
Ginger squared her shoulders and boldly slipped an arm around Nathan’s waist. She didn’t need an escort this time. She wasn’t looking for marriage or ’til death do us part—which had been a bad joke. She squeezed Nathan and blinked at the hardness of his abs. Tonight was hers for adventure. A sexual romp. No more, but certainly no less. She was ready—no, eager—to test a younger vintage wine. She only hoped she could keep up with her young charge.
He stopped in front of an open doorway. “You ready?”
She peered into the dimly lit room. The covers of the round bed were invitingly turned down. Tentatively, she stepped into the room. An uncorked bottle of red wine stood on a nearby stand. She recognized the brand of the pinot noir was from a prestigious winery. “The most sensual, erotic of wines,” she murmured, waiting for Nathan to close the door. “You weren’t counting on me turning you down, were you?”
“Perhaps unbridled optimism is a sin of youthfulness,” Nathan admitted. “You haven’t answered my question. Are you ready—for me?”
“Maybe more than I realized,” she whispered, reaching for the top button of her blouse.
“No,” he said, covering his hand with hers. “Let me. I want to unwrap you slowly like the quality gift you are. Thank you,” he whispered, kissing her brow, and then her eyelids.
At last his mouth slanted across hers. She rose on her toes, eagerly accepting his kiss, deepening it, letting him to know she suddenly wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Yes, she was ready. Past due, actually.
Ginger lay on the luxurious round bed staring at the ceiling through half closed, half clouded eyes. Had it been only minutes or hours since they’d entered the room? She hadn’t anticipated such patience—no, such sweet torture—from her young lover. After removing her clothing with great care, Nathan had escorted her to the bed. She’d lain on the bed and watched him strip for her. She’d gasped at the sight of his cock springing forth in search of a home. While he was above average size, it was its eagerness bobbing about searching for her that had her mesmerized.
She’d leaned over and curled her fingers around it, pleased at the stifled groan emanating from Nathan’s lips, but he had shaken his head and pried her fingers loose. And then the nibbling had begun—from the top of her head to her toes. She’d whimpered without embarrassment as he explored her entire body as if he were determined to memorize its contours, its textures, its taste. He’d turned her over and back again.
Catching their breath, they’d sipped pinot noir from the bottle. Glasses seemed like an unnecessary barrier. And then she’d bathed Nathan with her tongue as thoroughly as he had her. His pecs and abs were amazingly firm. Although she hadn’t dwelt there long, his tightly veined cock had filled her throat nicely. But the most memorable moment, the one she’d keep with her long after this night had finished, was the moment when she’d gently slipped one of his testicles into her mouth and he’d called out her name. Did a man ever have a more vulnerable moment?
More wine had passed their lips since then and now she laced her fingers through Nathan’s dark hair as he suckled a breast while rhythmically probing her interior heat with two fingers. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever been this turned on, this open. She’d worried whether she’d have enough natural lubrication. By the time he’d finished nibbling on her flesh the first time around, she’d been seeping like an underground spring. And there was no sign of slowing down.
“Oh,” she moaned.
His fingers quickened. “You’ve had plenty of little waves.” He lifted his head and smiled. “Come for me. I can’t wait any longer. I want to hear you come for me.”
Unable to speak, she nodded. He placed an index finger across her lips. She took it into her mouth and suckled. His fingers in her vagina curled upward, searching. She lifted her hips to help him find what they both were searching for.
“Oh, my God,” she screamed, bucking against his fingers. She thrashed from side to side.
Nathan never paused. “Come for me, Ginger. Come for me.”
“Good God, I am. For you.” She did her best to keep her eyes open and locked on his as he watched her intently. The explosions began as searing ripples. She held out her arms. “I can’t do this alone. Hold me, please.”
He cradled her with one arm while still probing her most sensitive spot. She ground against him searching for more. Unhinged, uninhibited, she demanded more. Her squeals pierced the room. Her body shuddered with a rolling orgasm. She couldn’t feel his fingers. She gulped. There they were again, tapping her core like they knew she was still building. “Holy God,” she screamed, digging fingernails into Nathan’s back.
“Come for me, Ginger,” he insisted. “Don’t hold back. Let go.”
“Uh. I am. Uh, huh.” She couldn’t keep her eyes closed. She strained against him, and then she released. Built up tension, built up hopes and dreams of years past . . . even built up thoughts escaped as she flowed over his fingers—the keys that had helped her find release. At last she managed to murmur, “Enough.”
She drifted away reveling, relishing. She wasn’t sure when he’d withdrawn his fingers, but when her focus returned he was cradling her with both arms.
Repeatedly, he kissed her forehead. “You were wonderful.”
“That was pretty amazing.” She felt her cheeks warm. Fucking him could hardly be more intimate than this moment.
He offered her the bottle of wine. She sat up against the headboard, sipped and then swallowed deeply. A mixture of cherries and chocolate flavors swept across her tongue. She looked up and frowned at Nathan, who was ripping apart the casing of a condom. “Don’t you want me to do you? Orally?”
He shook his head and reached for a tube of lube on a stand. “I may be a patient man, but,” he gave her a mischievous grin, “if you get your warm mouth around him one more time he’s going to be a goner. He can wait another time for that.”
“Another time?” She arched an eyebrow. “You think we’re going to be together again?”
“Why not? You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. This is beyond my dreams.”
“Then why wouldn’t we see each other again?”
Her breath caught somewhere in her windpipe. She shook her head. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
Nathan stretched out beside her. His encased penis stood so tall and proud, Ginger thought maybe it was this image that had inspired the saying strutting like a proud cock. She reached out and patted the object of her attention. “This isn’t a good time for thinking.”
Chuckling, Nathan scraped his knuckles across her cheek. “From what I gather, it’s been quite a while for you. Why don’t you get on top? Then you can set the pace.”
“Me?”
He nodded. “I want to watch you fuck me.”
The word fuck unsnapped something deep inside her. Her pulse raced. Without speaking, Ginger moved to straddle him. Rising up on her knees, she positioned Nathan at her entrance. His eyes widened as she slowly started to take him in.
She blinked. Even as turned on as she was, she had to go slow.
“Damn, you’re tight,” he moaned.
She closed her eyes and settled a bit more. She didn’t want to break the mood by telling him that her three kids had each been delivered Caesarian. And now this young man was the beneficiary. She paused, moaned and gave him a weak smile.
“Over halfway,” he murmured. “What a beautiful sight.”
She nodded. “She’ll open for you. It has been a long time. Oh my,” she muttered settling astride him.
“There.”
“You got him!”
She smiled at Nathan’s exuberance. Had he really doubted she could handle him? She shifted from side to side. Carefully, she flexed upward a bit and let herself slowly sink back down. Satisfied that she had Nathan where she wanted him, she leaned back to give him an even better view. “Now watch carefully. I want you to watch me fucking you.”
His nostrils flared and his lips parted as she simply flexed back and forth on her knees.
“Jesus. Your clit is so big.”
“Thought you might appreciate that.” She reached down and stroked her clit gently, matching her movements over his cock.
“Christ, lady. You’ve got me right on the edge.”
Ginger stopped suddenly. “Thought that might be the case.” She sat straight up and without warning began rising and lowering over and around his penis. She raised her arms above her head. His eyes shuttered. “No, watch me!” she ordered without pausing. “Watch me fuck you.”
“Oh, hell. You’ve got him.”
She laughed as Nathan’s hips churned, slapping against her bottom. Showing no mercy, she slammed against him knowing that she was claiming his essence. Only briefly she wished the condom hadn’t been necessary. At last she closed her eyes and let herself soar. They continued to pump and strain, torso pounding torso. Their voices merged. Vaguely she knew he must be finished, but she didn’t want to stop. Not yet.
And then she felt him tapping on her exposed clit and she shattered. She collapsed into his arms. Neither of them spoke for the longest time. His hand slid rhythmically over her backside. Her breathing slowly steadied. She licked the side of his neck. He was salty with sweat—the perfect after-lovemaking liqueur.
At last she felt him stir beneath her.
“I hate to be so mundane, but we probably should yield this room fairly soon. I’m surprised no one’s knocked on the door yet.”
“Oh.” She stared at him, trying to sort out where they were. “Oh my God! Annette! What will she think? How long have we been in here?”