I was exhausted. We'd both arrived in Paris Friday evening. Had sex. Went to dinner. Had sex. Slept. Woke up. Again sex. Breakfast. Walk around. Sex. Nap. Concert. Sex. Sleep. Sex. Breakfast. Walk around.
So, yeah, my instrument was about played out. We still had plenty of energy, but there are limits, right? At least in your 50s there should be.
Back in our room after our walk we shed our coats. I took a moment to admire her curves, her wide ass, powerful legs, & those delicious big tits (we'll get to those tits later).
She puts her arms around my neck. Gives me a crinkle eyed smile. My hands feel the roughness of her sweater as they slide around her back. We kiss. Out come the tongues, lightly & playfully. Then with hunger. Our arms tighten, pulling our bodies together. The kiss becomes sucking, nibbling, biting, our breath coming faster.
"Okay," I think, "There's no way I can get it up for this but we can still have fun."
I pull her sweater over her head, watching her breasts sway as they popped out. Another hungry kiss. The t-shirt went the way of sweater. My balls started to tingle as I marveled at those soft pillows of breasts. She unbuttons my shirt, fumbling at the buttons in haste. We press together, kissing, mouths wide open, her hands pressing against the back of my bald head.
I unclasp her bra & we separate just long enough to let it fall. Then we press together, skin to skin, her yielding flesh to my muscular body. I'm starting to feel dizzy. I'm breathing high in my chest, nearly panting.