I could find the urge, the drive and wilderness in her eyes. She was completely into it. Her skin had been faded of age and the marks were perceptible in her cheeks. All these years, of burden of carrying the luggage of a family, that had hardly cared for her. A greying husband, lost in virility and innovations in bed, had furthered the miseries of her sex life. And she had not yet come out of her fantasy, she was moaning, whispering, breathing. She had turned red as a chameleon, which indicated her arousal wouldn’t be wither for some time.I was taken by the sheer naturalism and sincerity of this mature lady. She wanted to make the most of this rare opportunity, of laying a young 27 year old to rest. I had then finished sucking her breast and turned towards her wide open mouth. She held my head against her face, and kissed me.She then pulled my tongue and licked it. Her one hand unzipped my trousers and inserted inside my underwear, picked my penis and started stimulating it with her. “I win,” she said, practically preening. She smiled broadly, her white teeth reminding me of the white semen I had just shot over them. “Now finish your breakfast, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”My cereal was soggy and my toast was cold, but I obediently consumed it all.After breakfast, we finished up all the boxes on the side wall of the garage. There were no more finds like the photo albums, however. Mostly, it was the kind of things that people accumulate over many years of life—knick-knacks.The whole time I was moving boxes, however, Susan was teasing me. I’d come up to set a box down and she’d ask me to wait before picking up the box she was working on. When she had taped up the new box, she would fondle me before she’d let me pick it up.Or she would spread her legs, making eye contact with me before she did it, and run her index finger over her slit. I would invariably drop my eyes to the spectacle before me (as she meant for me to) and when I’d look back up at her, she’d be.
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