by Viva Jones
‘How wonderful,’ she said. He knew a thing or two about maintaining rhythm then.
‘Not great money,’ he said almost apologetically, ‘except maybe for the lucky handful. As long as I don’t turn out like Richard Band or someone, I guess I’ll be happy.’
The names meant little to her. She eyed him again, noting the way his khakis sat upon his legs, showing muscle not flab. That was a really nice body he was only partially showing. She smiled warmly, teasingly. ‘I think you’ll get by.’
‘You live around here?’ he asked.
‘Why, Neil,’ she said, ‘You haven’t even bought me a drink yet.’
‘I didn’t ... I mean ...’ His whole face glowed with this blush. ‘Can I get you something?’
It was then that Larry delivered his Goose and OJ. She held up her mostly empty glass, and Neil said, ‘That a sex on the beach?’ When she nodded, he asked ‘What’s in that?’
‘Grenadine, orange juice, pineapple juice, Malibu rum, Peachtree, and a little,’ she paused to run her tongue across her lip, catching a stray spot of flavour, ‘cream for smoothness.’
‘No vodka,’ he said. ‘I thought there was Stoli or something.’
‘Oooh,’ she said, ‘a Renaissance man.’
‘How’s that?’
He somehow looked even cuter when confused. She explained, ‘You are a man of many talents. Music and drink mixes and couture.’
‘Renaissance man, huh?’ He grinned at this and nodded to himself. ‘I like the sound of that.’
‘So,’ she said, ‘any other talents you’d care to share?’
‘A few,’ he said, and her drink arrived. He slid money across the bar, and the bartender made change while she raised the glass to her lips and tasted. Perfect as usual. Larry knew all about sex and beaches. ‘Mmm,’ she said, and then asked ‘Want a taste?’ giving the last word every body language cue of desire she knew.
Still blushing, he said ‘Sure.’ She handed the glass over, and when he took it, she brushed across his hand a little longer than necessary. The trick, Hildy knew, was to tease and not come off as desperate. Nothing scared a lovely boy off faster than desperation. She wanted Neil, but she did not want him to know how much she wanted him.
The way he acted was so genuinely intriguing. She could show him a few things, and she could share in his discoveries. Men got off on deflowering virgins, and Hildy got a similar thrill from her catches.
She did not want virgins, per se. She wanted horny lads who knew at least how to find the target when they were naked and ready. She wanted boys with some experience, something past backseat fumbling, past the attempts to apply porn gained theory to the real deed, but not so old that they lost their all night hard-ons.
She crossed her legs at the thought of Neil’s hard-on.
Outside of Desperate Housewives, American culture worshipped youth to the extent that it seemed a single woman’s sex life ended after marriage or 33, whichever happened first. She liked to think this the stuff of nonsense; this being the 21st century, a mature woman should still be able to get plenty of Playtimes. And Playtime with young, happy hard-ons.
Should, however, did not equate to either could or would.
‘Pretty fucking nice,’ he said. He could have been talking about drink or her legs. The crotch of those khakis was fuller than when he had arrived, a blossoming hard-on with her name on it, should she play things right. That he had not left yet gave Hildy hope; she only needed to hang on just tight enough to bring him in. Perhaps she had another night’s pleasures left in her.
‘You think so, huh?’ She crossed her legs again, and he took a second sip of her drink. He was relaxed now. She leaned in and touched his leg, high on the thigh, near his cock. ‘You’re pretty fucking nice yourself. You want to get out of here?’
He glanced back, over his shoulder. A table full of friends waited; this was the telling moment: here was where victory or loss would happen. Would Neil flee back to safety of similarly-aged friends or take the plunge for a little play? When he glanced back, she knew his answer even before it passed his lips. This lovely boy was as easy to read as a book, and Hildy had cut her teeth on more challenging texts than bestsellers. Sweet, sweet Neil said, ‘I’d love to.’
How lovely.
‘So, you live around here?’
‘Not far,’ she said, ‘Walking distance. Want to walk with me?’
He said nothing, so she stood and touched his lips with her own, pouring a little more heat into him from her boundless spring. To top it off, she gave his crotch a gentle caress, and he shivered. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Lead on.’
It would be simple enough to take him back to her place; she was practically leading him by the cock, as it was. But that would put too quick an end to Playtime. She wanted to savour his affection, to tantalize him just enough but not scare him off. To titillate herself, too. Play went both ways.
Outside, a breeze carried the rich scents of floral displays from the city’s recent beautification. In time, they would wilt, they would die and take their scents to the grave. But until then, they were charming enough. The taste of her drink still full on her tongue, she leaned over to kiss Neil again, and his mouth proved as hungry for attention as hers. Gone was the hesitation. His tongue turned tender circles before delving deep into her mouth for a single moment’s surprise. Then, it withdrew, an enchanting mix of methods that Hildy found deucedly intoxicating.
When the kiss broke, warm wiggles coursed through her body, starting in her sex but radiating outward. ‘You’re good at that,’ she said. Boys needed plenty of encouragement.
‘Thank you.’
She caught his shirt and pulled him down the sidewalk. ‘Come with me.’ He seemed to catch that double meaning.
They walked a while, clinging close enough together that she could smell his musk and Axe cologne. Close enough that he could smell her perfume, a naughty, alchemical intoxicant of leather and roses designed to hold a young man’s attention. He put his arm low around her waist, so his hand rested along the curve of her ass.
She leaned in against him, letting her own hands run beneath his open shirt, along the Eraserhead logo and the broad chest beneath. His cock continued to strain inside his pants. Every so often they paused to kiss again, and she felt a fresh thrill run through her like electricity.
His hands were on her, too. Clawing her back, leaving trails of heat through her dress or across her bare skin. He was doing his best to undress her on the sidewalk, and his erection nudged her below.
‘So,’ she said between kisses, ‘Do you have a condom?’
‘Yeah,’ he said.
‘Maybe I can’t wait,’ she said, surprising herself, ‘to get back to my place.’
‘Here?’ His voice trembled with nerves, his expression betrayed perverse intrigue. ‘In the street?’ This particular road saw less foot traffic, though it was still sighting distance to the neon-heavy lane of bars and nightspots. An artery from one stretch of nightlife to the next.
She glanced around. ‘Maybe not right here,’ she said, and her eyes passed over the nearby dark doorway to Lawson’s Deli. It was a recessed spot, surrounded by shaded glass. The streetlamp light would barely reach inside that recess. ‘But what about there?’
‘There?’ The perverse intrigue was winning out, aided no doubt by the demanding cockmind. ‘Yeah.’
She led the way, and as soon as they entered the shadows, he pressed against her. She shoved him back, not the wilting teen flower he might have been with before. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I want you,’ she said, ‘to fuck me right.’
She pulled her dress down, baring her breasts, and pulled his hands to her hips. Like an obedient boy, he lowered his mouth to suck and nibble. ‘Not just the nipples,’ she admonished, ‘all around.’ He got the hang of it quick enough, kissing from left to right and back again. ‘Use your tongue,’ she whispered, ‘flick them for me.’ Each flick brought a new delight.
T
he glass was cold on her back, but she had heat to spare. Neil’s hands caressed her sides, kneading her with intensifying eagerness. She tugged up his T-shirt, while his mouth sent shivers through her. Could he smell her yet? The hot honey lubricant flowing below was strong in her nostrils.
‘Kiss my mouth,’ she said. He was born to serve.
‘Along the neck,’ she said. ‘Now, bite my shoulder.’ The boy’s mouth was spectacular. His hands moved up to massage her breasts and occasionally flick her nipples. ‘Pinch them,’ she said. ‘Harder.’ He squeezed her and she trembled. Her lip found its way between her teeth and she ground it near to bursting. ‘Oh, Neil. What a bad boy you are.’
That set him off even more. He redoubled his nibbles and kisses, his talented tongue tricks, his hands.
She reached low, unzipped him, and manoeuvred his cock into her palm. The soft skin bent to the right, a pleasurable size, not too wide. No socks stuffed down these shorts to compensate for perceived inadequacies.
She stroked it; her tight grip delivered gasps. ‘Too hard?’ she asked, knowing that he would not say no. He would only shake his head to the negative. ‘Harder?’ She squeezed him a little more, milking his ecstasy. ‘Such a fine, big cock,’ she said, and when he glanced up, she licked her lips. ‘Where’s your condom?’
He fumbled for his wallet. Dropped it. Cursed between gasps. ‘I’ll get it,’ she said, and slowly sank to her knees, stroking his lovely cock as she dropped. Her dress and skin squeaked down the glass, as she went.
His wallet came to hand and she stuffed it into his palm, gazing at the prize in her fist. The head was lovely, dotted with lubricant. So close. Kissably close. She longed to taste him, to feel that soft skin on her tongue, to feel it move when she sucked. Finally he fumbled the condom out.
Non-lubricated.
Perfect.
She dragged it out of his hand, ripped it open and set it in place. Squeezed the tip and unrolled it over his glans. Then, she leaned in and set her lips along the latex, pushing forward, unrolling the rest of the way with her mouth. Neil was all aquiver, so he must have liked what she was doing. She hummed late Beatles tunes, and he rocked back, catching himself on the deli door.
When his cock tickled the back of her throat, it caught enough of a gag reflex to draw forth plenty of saliva. The latex taste was bad, but not enough to turn her off sucking him. She wrapped a hand around his sheathed cock, stroking him, while she sucked. He writhed against the door, just as she wanted him to.
Then, she reached into his pants and squeezed his balls. They were shaved and goose pimpled. He whispered her name like a prayer, and she found she liked it. Worship me, she thought. Love me.
One of his hands moved down to play with her hair, while the other reached into his gaping shirt to flick his own nipple. Nice to see a man who was not afraid to pleasure himself.
She reached down and tugged her panties aside, so trembling fingers might rub circles around her throbbing clit, drawing along either side and then across. Her first orgasm hit when she glanced up and saw Neil’s boyish handsome face twisting delightfully from in her attentions. The cock in her mouth muffled her verbalization, but the energy crashed through her. Buoyant with joy, she tugged harder on his cock and fingered herself.
‘I want you inside me,’ she said. She stood, tugged down her panties and pulled up her dress.
He was all hands, now, intoxicated with the scent of desire. At least he showed enough reserve that he did not simply bludgeon her with his attention. She leaned back against the glass and spread her legs. The window was cold on her ass, but this sensation only got her hotter still. A hold on his cock allowed her to guide the head to her slit. She smiled up at him, seeing the urge to plough into her. ‘A little at first, OK?’
He got into it, especially when she hooked her left leg around him. ‘More now.’ His cock spread her slowly. ‘All the way, Neil,’ she said.
He shook his head. ‘Not yet.’ He moved slowly in and out, giving her almost an inch at a time. So nice. His cock felt so good, spreading her, pushing inside her. A gentle rubbing, no friction at all. She found herself moaning through a second orgasm when he was still an inch or so away from being fully inside her. Her fingernails caught the back of his neck, and her leg tightened around him. Her skin squeaked across the glass as it left warm prints.
She whispered that she was coming, ordered him not to stop, don’t you dare stop. To the contrary, Neil was just getting going. He sank as deeply into her as possible, filling her. Then he was out again. In. He built tempo. Orchestrated her gasps and moans like music. Composing a symphony of her satisfaction and conducting that sheet music like an expert. ‘Harder,’ she pleaded, ‘Fast–’
He was in sync with her desires, and his cock moved faster now. He shoved into her, unapologetic and rough. The glass was hard, and the back of her head rapped across it twice. He was stabbing her, now, berserk with lust, and she lost all sense of where they were. There was only the wonderful rubbing, only the flow. He was fucking her and saying her name, and she was basking in his attention, in his glorious cock and hands and kisses and ... She came again, and leaned forward to clamp his nipple between her teeth. He bucked at this, moaning some pain, some pleasure, and as she sucked him, she growled for him to come too. To come for her. To come inside her.
His cock stiffened as his pleasure burst forth, and he whimpered a little as the sensitivity hit him.
She looked into his face, sweet in the moments after. He was smiling, pleased with himself. She reached up to caress his cheek, and her bracelets clinked like denouement cymbals.
Without her leg around him, Neil leaned back, his shrivelling cock falling out of her. The condom hung from his drooping member like some strange, pendulous wattle.
She rearranged her dress, pulling it down over her ass and up across her breasts, and he said, ‘Damn that was fun.’ An element of disappointment that the night was done.
‘A lot of fun,’ she said. ‘And, honey, I’m game if you want to come over, rest up and try a little more.’
In the dark, she could tell he was blinking while he thought. She could see the subtle movement as he shifted his head to look back to Larry’s and his forgotten friends. He was thinking with a clearer head, and it was anyone’s guess if he would cut and run on her.
‘I think I’d love that,’ he said.
The cougar led him further on, enjoying the afterglow, the night, and her sweet catch. What would tomorrow hold? She would not say, but tonight was perfectly lovely.
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