One Thing Leads to Several Others

ONE THING LEADS TO SEVERAL OTHERS

"Hello? Is that ......, James -- yes."

The carefully prepared speech has totally deserted me. I have not felt so gauche since I was a schoolgirl!

"Oh, me? I'm Jane. I've seen your website and I was wondering ...... Yes -- Jane Richie."

My face is hot and red. I can imagine myself turning blotchy as we speak.

"What can I do for you, Jane?"

He has a mellow voice, older than his declared age and he seems more patient than the average twenty-something boy.

"Yes -- I've seen your website and I was wondering if ......., oh Lord! I'm getting all tongue-tied!"

He has a warm, comfortable chuckle -- not laughing at me, I think, but trying hard to settle me down.

"No need to be embarrassed, Jane -- I'm shockproof. I'm guessing this is the first time you've contacted someone like me. You've seen my website and psyched yourself up to ring? Good -- so you know what I offer and so on. Why don't you tell me a bit about yourself and what you are hoping for?"

I find myself telling him about Hugo.

"He was nearly twenty years older than me but he'd stayed fit. I've never been with another man but he was quite demanding and, I must admit, I enjoyed our love-life. I still miss him and I miss loving him. It's been over a year. I'd promised you to myself as a birthday treat. Then I thought 'who'd want to ......, you know, ......., with an old lady?' But you say on the site that you are happy to accommodate older clients?"

"Yes. Mature ladies are often so much more interesting than younger ones. But it sounds as if you have something more than a cup of tea and a cosy chat on your mind?"

"Mmmmm. I'll be fifty in six days. I told you -- Hugo wanted me all the time but he was quite ......, what's the term? Vanilla? And I just want someone nice to ...., you know ..."

'Fuck me' comes out all whispered and strangled and I blush scarlet again.

"There! I've said it! I don't think I have ever used that word before. Sorry. For thirty years I was happy to do whatever he wanted me to do. I cannot imagine anything I would have refused him but now I've mourned him I want to expand my horizons. I want to be selfish."

"So, Jane, what do you have in mind? Have you any preferences?"

"Oh -- I don't want you to ask me! I want you to make me -- thrill me, hurt me ..., a little, even. I want you to do all the things that I've never had done to me! I'm not totally naïve, James. Girls talk together about their experiences but ......., well, I saw a film. There was a big fuss about it on TV so I bought a copy. 50 Shades. It made me feel ....., you know. I want a little of her fear and pain and excitement but I'm also in agreement with her -- I want some emotional attachment too. Is that possible?"

"It can be. I like to like the ladies I visit and I have quite a few that I think of as friends. How long a session would you like and when will suit you? I'm actually available on your birthday."

"Oh, that would be perfect! I thought an overnight visit would be nice. I can take you to our local and show you off -- make my friends green with envy! Then back here for afters."

"Well, most ladies start with an hour or two before they go on to overnights. How would this be -- I'll come to you for about 7, go out for your birthday meal then spend some time together. If you've had enough by, say, eleven I'll leave and just charge for the four hours. Otherwise, I'm all yours until up to ten a.m. How would that be? I can give you an hour or two to decide if you want, but, once you've committed we have a contract. If you back out and I can't rebook then I will charge £200. I'll need your mobile number and your address."

I feel the hand of panic clenching at my tummy but he sounds so ...., attentive and considerate and ...., honest.

"No ......., no, I want to commit!"

"I'm glad, Jane. I will try to make your birthday really special."

I give my details and directions. £850 -- it better be good for that amount. But then, money is the only thing I've got plenty of. I go to the bank the next day, fluster when the teller asks me if the money is for something nice, blurt out 'birthday treat' and almost run out, blushing. I deduce that I am woefully inexperienced at arranging trysts! Things do not improve for the next few days -- I am a complete, bumbling idiot. But, the night before D Day I have a dream. I can only ascribe it to dreaming, even though it seems so solidly real.

"Now, what are you fretting about, Girlie?"

The same borders lilt, the same humorous edge that was never far from his voice. I can almost smell him and feel his heat.

"Oh Darling! I've really done it this time! I'm ......"

"Och, I know well! But it's me that's dead and you young and alive. You deserve a life, Janie. Just be careful and mind what you're getting into. Now, give me a smile and have a ......, a happy birthday!"

I must be awake -- or at least partly. I turn to where he would be sleeping and smile, though there are tears in my eyes that wet my pillow. I kiss my fingers and lay them on his pillow.

"Thank you, Darling. I love you!"

There is a great calm. I believe he would have said such a thing, and meant it. I awake peaceful and rested and my usual efficient self, field the messages of birthday wishes, Skype my children and grandchildren

"See you in two weeks, Nan! Happy birthday and big hugs!"

My seven-year-old grandson being reliably 'grown up'. My best friend comes around with flowers and a card.

"Happy Birthday, love! You seem much better today -- I've been worried!"

I give her a quizzical look and she nods sagely.

"Distracted -- not your usual organised self. I don't think you've heard a word I've said for at least three days!"

"Ah! Laura, these flowers are lovely. Thank you so much. Three days?"

She nods and waits for the explanation which is withheld.

I start getting ready at about 4.30, carefully depilating, cleansing, perfuming, choosing and discarding outfits. At least I have my underwear ready -- new and, I hope, decorously sexy. I take ages over my make-up, marvelling how it should take longer to apply less. I slip into my panties and bra, my white blouse and black skirt. I think I suit classic styles. The door bell chimes and my stomach lurches and falls like a stricken elevator! I head for the door on jelly legs. He is polite enough not to ring a second time and, when I open the door he is standing, smiling on the bottom step, handsome, in a boy-next-door sort of way. He looks me up and down and his smile widens to a boyish grin. I usher him in.

"I decided I liked you for your voice, Jane, but you didn't tell me that you are a beautiful mature lady! Look at you! Do you work out or play sport? Oh, here -- these are for you. Happy Birthday, Jane."

A dozen red roses! Obvious, but such a kind thought. I stand on tiptoe to give him a 'thank you' kiss and he returns it nicely -- not too urgent but definitely not 'business-like and in a 'that was nice -- perhaps there might be more' sort of way.

"Well, now we are even because you are far better looking than your photo makes you! Come through. Will you have a drink? Red? White?"

"A coffee if I may. I don't drink but I'm comfortable with others enjoying a glass or two."

I make him a coffee and fix myself a large G&T. When I fetch them in he is standing with a photo of Hugo in his hands.

"Are you ok talking about your husband, Jane? I'd like to know a bit more of your story. I almost feel as if I knew him. My father met him when he was a boy. At Murrayfield, that would have been. We used to go to watch rugby a lot. And, I have friends in the Borders who talk about him in hushed tones."

I find myself pouring out my innermost feelings. He is a listener. He nods and makes small, encouraging noises but he does not interrupt and his eyes never leave my face. His eyes mirror my story -- twinkling at the funny, happy things and sad at the small tragedies and the final, big one. There is a warm feeling coursing through me that has nothing to do with my still unfinished drink. I hand him the keys to Hugo's cherished car which he drives skilfully but with reverence. He listens throughout our meal and, if invited, answers my questions about his life. University, not married but with long term girlfriend, parents no longer alive, a few amusing but brief anecdotes then back to me. He looks at me, and speaks to me, almost, like the sexy man on the Cointreau advert and I feel like the beautiful girl by his side. WOW!

"Oh Lord! It's Laura- my best friend!"

He has just called for the bill.

"Then we must certainly make the most of the situation!" he whispers piratically.

He helps me into my coat, kisses my hand and steers me through the restaurant via her table. I stop as if surprised and introduce him.

"Laura! Hello. How lucky you are to be Jane's friend! I hope we will meet again with more time to speak."

I ignore the 'now I understand' look on Laura's face and allow myself to be whisked outside where I slap his arm in mock admonition.

"You are wicked! I'll be the talk of the village!" I giggle.

"Someone as beautiful as you should be the talk of the village!" he replies.

Heavens! I am being seduced by a boy! I make coffee and we sit together on the sofa. I slip off my shoes and tuck my legs under me.

"Are you always so gallant?" I ask, teasingly.

"Ah!" he replies, completely in charge of himself, "that depends on the lady. But, Jane, I do not wish to appear too chivalrous! I was hoping for a repeat of that 'thank you' kiss we shared before dinner -- and, maybe, more?"

He is a patient lover. His kisses are warm and increasingly thrilling but his pace is determined by my response. My body reacts unbidden and I straddle him and press my mouth against his and thrill as he eases my skirt higher and strokes up and down my thighs. I feel as if I might climax just from his touch.

"I'd like to see our bedroom. Won't you take me up?"

Still quivering, I lead him by the hand. He hefts his bag; over-large and heavy for an overnight.

"This is perfect!" he whispers in my ear. "Ah! A full length mirror. You should see yourself as I see you -- see your own ecstasy as I must see it!"

With the light on! He leads me to it and stands behind me. He kisses my neck and my ears as his hands ride up my torso to my breasts. He is far more adept at undoing buttons than Hugo was, far more adept at undoing my bra, holding the cups against me and slowly removing them, far stealthier at finding the hook, eye and zip that holds my skirt up. He finds the sensitive area on the underside of my breasts, holds them up with his arm as he fondles and, with his other hand stretches my neck to nibble and lick and kiss. I close my eyes, feeling a little faint.

"No! You must look! What do you see? Yes -- watch yourself. A lady whose body defies time, sensuous and giving. And a boy in thrall to your beauty! Are you close, Jane? Watch!"

Hugo never spoke during love-making. Before, and a lot after. This is pure seduction! His hand tickles down my belly and slides under my panties. His fingers find my damp labia and rub. I gasp and pant but I watch. I have never seen myself like this! I arch my back and clasp my arms around his neck. His left hand leaves my beast and strokes up my throat. Two fingers ease into my mouth. I cry out, my breath now ragged.

"Open your eyes! Watch how wonderful you are!"

I have never considered how I might look as I climaxed. My eyes bulge and my mouth opens wide. My belly actually ripples on the outside and I cry out and throw myself backwards, bucking myself against his fingers. My eyes must close! He holds me up gently so that I do not slide to the floor, holds me until I regain a little equilibrium.

"Oh, James! Oh my God ......., James!"

My belly won't keep still.

"Why don't we remove these pretty panties and you go for a nice shower. I'll join you in a moment. I have a little preparation to see to. Don't ask! Yours not to reason why, my lady!"

I should hardly feel shy of him now, yet I find myself both blushing and putting on an extra little wiggle as I do his bidding.

She is altogether lovely and a vast untapped font of passion. I want her awakening to be respectful and loving, but also exploratory and exciting. It has got to be 'soft-kinky'. I like her. She is funny and self-deprecating and there is a well of laughter bubbling under the surface. Her bed has slatted head and foot boards -- perfect. I set out simple restraints and a blindfold, a very light flogger which is little more than a toy, a vibrating wand, lubricant and a small glass but plug. I debate with myself about some rope-work. Certainly she has a figure that would be enhanced by a little Japanese knot-work. Is it too soon -- too much for one night? I leave three lengths of scarlet, soft cotton rope where I can soon get my hands on it. We will see. I undress and stow my clothes neatly -- I think she would expect that. I saw her blush when I removed her panties but I also saw that saucy wiggle of her hips.

He is not long before he enters the en-suite. His penis is so big! And his body is nicely proportioned, not as bulked with muscle as Hugo was but pleasing. He has quite a lot of fine, golden body hair but it is short -- almost like a pelt. He squeezes in beside me, takes the soap and begins to lather and rub my body in between long, wet kisses. He takes the shower head and plays the jet over my erogenous areas, which is stimulating. Then, at peril of the glass partition, he kneels, parts my thighs and goes to work on my labia and clitoris with his tongue and teeth. He is driving me towards a second orgasm. I have never experienced more than one in a single night and I have never had anyone's mouth tormenting my vulva. I grasp the top of the cubicle and stretch my neck back, gasping and spluttering and moaning.

"James! James ...I ..., I'm coming agaiiiin! Ah ah ah arrrrggggghhhhhhhh!"

He washes me -- slowly and erotically. I have no time to rest -- I don't want to rest. I want to touch him, touch his lovely penis. Tentatively, I take his shoulders and turn him. He knows what I want. I take the soap off him and return the favour before dropping to my knees. Dare I? I so want to but all my upbringing protests against it. I hold him lightly, pull back on his foreskin, put my lips to his head then suck his glans in. It is soapy and salty and I love the feel of him against my tongue and on the roof of my mouth and on my lips! He allows me a minute or two then lifts me.

"Come! I will dry you then you can dry me. You have a wonderful body, Jane. You should be proud."

"I like your body too," I gasp as he strokes me dry. "You have a lovely big penis. Gosh! Did I really say that?"

He hands me the towel and I try to emulate his technique. He smiles, kisses me gently and takes me by the hand.

"Look! You wanted a little of the 50 Shades treatment. Do you still? You must tell me if you don't like anything though I shall reserve the right to dominate you a little."

"Yes!" I gasp. "I want it James. Show me."

Her eye widen when she sees the restraints but she smiles at me.

"Oh, James -- I feel so wicked and I like it. I'm such a slutty old woman!"

"Not slutty and not old either. I'd say classy with a delicious body half your chronological age and remarkable stamina. Most ladies would be dozing off by now!"

"I am tired," she grins wickedly, "but I think I have a little left in the tank! You will stay all night, won't you, James?"

In answer I scoop her up and lay her on the bed. We kiss passionately for a while until she begins, still very tentatively, to explore my body. I dare not allow too much of this!

"That's nice, Jane, but it is not for now. Kneel up!"

I crawl up behind her, kissing her neck and shoulders, and slip the blindfold onto her. Her hands fly, instinctively, to her face but she does not resist when I grasp her wrists and bring them back to her sides.

"Anticipation, Jane! You don't know what I'm about to do so your imagination will work overtime."

I pick up the wand and turn it on. She starts at the hornet buzz. She holds out her arms, as I tell her, and jumps a little as I run it up and down the inside surface of her arms.

"Ooooo! That tickles. No -- not tickle. It's made my nipples go hard!"

"These very beautiful mother's nipples?" I tease.

"Ohhhhhhh! I ......., I like that and ........., aaaiiiiiiii. Mmmmmm, James!!!"

I turn the wand off and she groans in frustration.

"Why have you stopped?" she moans.

I kneel behind her, letting her feel my penis on her back, and rub her breasts and labia and she smiles and sighs.

"I know you watched all three Shades of Grey films. I saw them by your TV cabinet. You are a wicked lady! I may have to punish you a little. Especially as you objected to me turning off the wand!"

She is wriggling and thrusting against my hand, panting and making little squeaking, pleading sorts of noises.

"Do you remember, in the second film, he sends her to a cabinet in the red room to fetch back a but-plug? Reach out in front of you -- on the bed. What can you find?"

Her hands are shaking as she scrabbles over the bed and finds the plug and gasps.

"Hold it up, Jane. Kiss it! Make love to it with your mouth!"

"Oh, James! I've never ........., um"

It is not particularly large but she has to open her generous mouth wide to take it in. I open the jar of thick lube. With my left hand I finger some into her vulva. Post-menopause pussy needs a little help! She half sighs, half giggles around her mouthful. When my right hand descends her cleft and pushes a large dollop of lube along with the tips of two fingers into her anus she emits a loud squeal and takes the plug from her mouth.

"James, I don't know about ....., ooooooh. This is so wrong and ......, and ......."

I take the plug from her and remove the saliva and coat it with the lube that remains on my fingers. I hold her tight around her shoulders, kiss her deeply and present the plug to her anus, rotating it and pushing gently. I watch her. Her forehead crinkles and she frowns and her mouth shows a moment of pain but the plug slides, inexorably inwards and holds. I rub her front and kiss her again, palpating the plug gently until she begins to respond.

"Now, my wicked friend, for your punishment. Do you repent?"

I cuff her ankles, spread her a little and tighten the restraints. There is not much pressure on her legs. I place pillows behind her and ease her back. I'm assessing her suppleness and general fitness -- few 50-year-olds could take this. I tighten the restraints to her arms a little more so that she is properly stretched.

"How does that feel?" I ask.

"Mmmmm -- I feel so helpless and this thing is pressing into me. I thought that was my punishment!"

"No -- that is part of exquisite pleasure to come. You must answer me honestly, Jane. Not many mature ladies could achieve this position. Remember, the objective is pleasure!"

"OK -- but you are making me a bit nervous."

"Good! Nervous is good. Now, let us see if you are as pliant as Anabell!"

I do not know how long I can hold this position but the stretch feels really sexy and not being able to see or escape really works me up. The plug hurt a bit, going in, but now it sort of excites me a bit when I stretch. I am just congratulating myself on my acceptance when I feel a tickling sensation from my mound up and over my breasts and throat. He is drawing something with many strands over my body. It must be the flogger. Again, over my thighs and belly, twirling as if in a little dance.

"Hu?"

Once more he tickles me with the lashes. Then there is a soft slap as he brings it down hard on my tummy, about navel height. It does not really hurt but it makes me jump and strain against my bonds. Again the teasing -- and then four hard strikes, unerringly, on my breasts. I squeal although the result is no more than a warming of my skin and nipples. Two more blows rain down before a pause. His tongue flickers and skids across the hot patch that the lash has left. I cry out, not so much in pain but in ecstasy and he sucks in my hot nipple, bites oh-so-gently on it and pulls it out. I liked that; but, a moment later the lash is drawn from throat to mons and a salvo of blows shatters my calm. I feel a tear start in my eyes but he kisses it away and his tongue caresses my slightly-aching labia and he kisses me better -- much, much better!