He chuckled, "Damn right, it is!". They both share a laugh, dissolving into silence again. A light breeze hummed through the leaves in front of the cafe.
"It seems like you at least had a period of that burning passion. Not many people experience that in their life," Mary said, breaking the silence.
"Is that so? Why, that doesn't sound like a life worth living. A life without that spark. Without that passion burning inside. Without desire for another being so primal and rigid it tears your very being into pieces. Ugh, those were the days." He stopped briefly, watching her. "Have you never felt that, my dear?"
She stumbled over her words, "Oh, I mean, of- of course I did. You know how it is when you are young. That feeling and all..." Jamie smiled at her, but didn't push it further.
"I haven't felt it in years, you know," he said. "Not just felt, haven't... Done anything in years.". After a brief pause he continued with honeyed words, "You've been a very welcome company, Mary. You really made the last few months wonderful for me, you know?" He paused, not expecting an answer. "I know what I am going to propose could bring this to an end, on top of being indecent and selfish as well. And, you know, a man builds up pressure inside, over the years of inactivity. It becomes... unbearable. A deep discomfort - no - pain. It takes a hold in one's mind, in one's body. And only one solution to it... So..." He stopped. His expression - vulnerable. A mask for depravity. "Would- would you help an old man relive his youthful days?"
"H-how would I do that?" Mary answered, feigning innocence. Trying to hide the excitement. From him. But also - from herself.
"Well... A delicate and passionate caress with your lovely hands would be wonderful," words from his mouth mellowed. He met her vibrant green eyes. Before she could answer, he continued, "Listen, here's a little something, and you can buy yourself something nice," he slid a 50 euro bill across the table. "Friends help each other out, right?"
As he let go of the bill, she grabbed it. A little bit quicker than she meant to. Pocketing the money, Mary hurriedly locked the door of the cafe and pulled the blinds. Jamie got comfortable in the booth he pointed at earlier. She could feel the heat rising in her crotch as she sat next to him. The zipper of his jeans slowly opened. He pulled his pants and boxers to his ankles. A grey bush covered his groin. From it, he emerged. A magnificent sight. Bulging veins were visible under his tense skin, forming beautiful, river-like patterns. They ran around the circumference of his hardness, which could barely be grasped by her dainty fingers. Her eyes eagerly traced them along his shaft. "And I thought Jason was big," she thought to herself. Finally, the tip was crowned by a slightly smaller head, loosely draped in his foreskin. His crotch smelled musky and sweaty. She liked it. It was... manly - a novelty for her. As if hypnotized by it, her hand grabbed it. Slowly, she pulled the foreskin back. His pink head revealed itself. A more intense, seductive aroma entered her nostrils. The head of his member was covered with precum, sticky and translucent, glistening in the warm light. She started stroking his dick. Slowly, along it's length, not taking her eyes off of it. Moaning softly, Jamie caressed her cheek as he gazed upon her flushed face. Her young lips, plump and red - inviting. But, he did not dare. Both of her hands were now grasping his cock. Not enough to cover him whole. It was a sight to behold. Seeing such a beautiful creation of nature was a reward, in and of itself. A few soft and stifled moans escaped her. The pace quickened. Her grasp was getting tighter. He throbbed within it. Lifting her eyes up, she saw him. Gaze fixated on her breasts. A look of primal passion in his eyes. Breathing heavily and grunting, he felt a sudden spasm. She felt him harden in her hands. The first squirt was strong and intense, landing just above her cleavage. Shivers ran through her body from her sperm-coated skin. He continued spraying his seed all over her. Untamable. Uncontrollable. Splashing over her blouse. Her jeans. The final reserves of his sperm oozed from is dick, coating her pale soft hands. His warmth felt good on her. He - felt good.
Jamie stood still for a minute, panting.
"That was... wonderful, dear. I do hope... we can... do this again sometime," he continued, panting.
"I will help you out again when you need it," she said eagerly. "I... if there's more of this, that is," she said, pulling out the 50 euros. Smooth save.
"Hah, smart girl!" His smiling eyes turned warm. "You're such a good friend, Mary. Thank you... Truly." He caressed her brunette hair softly, fading to platinum blonde at the ends. Her cheeks flushed.
"Friends help each other out, right?" She chuckled, avoiding his eyes innocently.
They exchanged goodbyes and he left, leaving her. Wanting and alone. His essence covered her. Intense and musky. She craved it. As soon as the doors of the cafe closed behind him, she was pulling her jeans and panties down frantically. The red panties she wore were soaked with her juices. Her pussy lips - pink and wide open. Sitting in the booth with her legs spread and feet on the table, she greased her clitoris with his sperm. As she spread his juices all over her swollen lips, she licked the other hand clean. Imagining him inside of her, she pushed her fingers deep inside herself. Pink and hot against her fingers. Thoughts - non-existent. Inaudible moans echoed outside the cafe. Under the pale moonlight, creeping through the branches, an owl hoots. Then it hit her. A tidal wave of whole body spasms. Each one making her ooze with pleasure. Her walls squeezed tightly around her finger. Throbbing. Aching. Merciless. Until every last fiber in her body gave out. She slumped. Her fingers slid out. Her entrance gaping, relaxed. Satisfied and panting, her mind drifted aimlessly. She twitched slightly, breathing raggedly. Trying to regain control of her mind. Aimlessly, until it landed back on Jaime. Back to... It. The sight of it. The feel of it. The scent of it. Carved in her memory, never to be erased. And her hand drifted - back to her blooming flower once again.