My name's Carly Stone. I met Jack in the summer of 1999, while shopping in his store. I was having trouble finding a good wine for a dinner party I was having that night, and Jack jumped right in and suggested one, which, by the way, was a hit at my party. Jack was 51 years old and I had just graduated from college, just on the cusp of my 23rd birthday.
The first thing I noticed about him was the beautiful streaks of gray hair that adorned his thick, black locks. The two colors blended perfectly. He had an amazing smile and a laugh I'm sure you could hear five blocks away.
The morning after my party, I went back to his shop, to thank him for his help, and to let him know how perfectly the wine capped off the menu. He seemed as pleased as I was, then he ever so boldly asked me to dinner. I graciously accepted, if nothing else, I would treat him, you know, a proper thank you for his help.
Now, I know what you're thinking. What on Earth could a 23 year old woman and a 51 year old man have in common? Trust me, I asked this same question to myself many times, while getting ready for our date.
After tossing several dresses onto the bed, I finally decided on the navy blue, low cut, ankle length cocktail dress. After all, we weren't going to McDonald's, and I wanted to look my best.
I stood in the bathroom, I know, at least an hour, trying to figure out just the right hairstyle to compliment the plunging neck line of my dress. I'm not a beauty queen by any stretch of the imagination, but, I'm not too hard on the eyes either. I was blessed with a D cup, thank you, Mom, and a figure that I've never really had to stress about. I've always had a fast metabolism, so every bite of food goes straight into energy. My hair's about shoulder length, fire engine red and my eyes sparkle like emeralds when the sun hits them just right.
Jack was early and I stumbled through the house, spritzing myself, one last time, with perfume and giving my dress one last look. I shrugged my shoulders and decided this was as good as it was gonna get.
"I'm coming!" I shouted, sliding on my left stilletto heel.
I opened the front door to find Jack looking amazing. He chose a navy blue tuxedo, what a coincidence. After our obligatory hello's and how are you's, we were on our way. He drove a brand new SUV, tricked out, top to bottom. As we drove, Jack told me about his late wife, Charlene, and his son, Drake.
Drake was fresh out of college and never hesitated to let Jack know when he needed money. I sort of giggled, not wanting to pass judgement on someone I didn't even know.
Once inside the restaurant, Jack was a perfect gentleman. He pulled out my chair, ordered for me and even admitted, that he too, was very nervous about tonight. He told me he'd never done nothing that bold before, but there was something about me that caught his attention and he just went for it.
I thought his honesty was refreshing. So many men try to lay their bullshit lines on you, but not Jack, he was honest to a fault, and I liked him right away.
The two hours we spent at dinner was spent elaborating on our family's history, past loves, education, dreams and goals, that sort of thing.
As we got up to leave, Jack's cell phone rang, it was Drake. He was back at Jack's house and couldn't get his key to work. So, we got in the truck and made our way back to Jack's house and, sure enough, there was Drake, sitting on the third step of the entrance.
"It's about time, Dad," said Jake, "I've been waiting out here for almost 45 minutes. And who is this?"
"Drake, mind your manners," said Jack.
"My name's Carly, it's nice to meet you, Drake," I said, extending my hand and giving my sweetest smile.
I noticed right away that Drake looked exactly like his father. They both had the 100 watt smile and warm hand shake.
Once inside Jack's house, I couldn't believe how neat and tidy it was, nothing out of place and it smelled of fresh cinnamon. Nothing like you'd expect a bachelor's house to look or smell like.
Jack and Drake excused themselves into the kitchen, and I took a seat on the enormous, black leather wrap around sofa, feeling somewhat out of place.
A few minutes later, Drake emerged from the darkness and grabbed his jacket and promptly left, no goodbye or anything, just left.
"I'm terribly sorry about that," said Jack, obviously flustered, "That boy never has learned responsibility. He's 23 years old and still thinks of me as his own personal bank account."
"No reason to apologize, Jack," I said, standing up and walking towards him.
"If I haven't told you already, Carly, you look simply amazing tonight," he whispered, sliding his large hands around my waist.
And, before I could say thank you, his lips were pressed to mine. His cologne filled my nostrils and my legs almost collapsed under me. He was so strong and powerful and his lips were so soft and warm.
I slid his tuxedo jacket off and tossed it to the couch. His fingers gently slid my zipper down, releasing my dress from my body, down to my six inch stilletto'd feet. I could feel his hardened cock pressing against me. We kissed harder and I slid my fingers behind the waistband of his dress pants, gently undoing the button and releasing his zipper.
Jack wasted no time walking me backwards, towards the large couch. He fell on top of me and we kissed passionately. I had never wanted another man so much in my entire life. I had fantasized about my step dad, many times while growing up, but never had the nerve to approach him. He was much older then I was, already 47 when he and my mother married. They moved to Colorado, the year I graduated from high school, so that was the end of that.
Was Jack my second chance? I viewed it as such and was not about to let another opportunity slip through my fingers.
My fingers slid Jack's pants down, just below his ass as his hands pulled my dress the rest of the way off.
"Keep the heels on," he whispered, undoing his tie and almost ripping his dress shirt off, flinging both onto the floor.
As I laid there, completely naked, except for my six inch heels, I had never felt so slutty in my entire life. My pussy instantly began drooling and my heavy size D tits were aching to be sucked. And, as if he read my mind, Jack lowered his mouth to my tan nipples, immediately latching his mouth onto my left one, sucking and tugging like a plunger. I groaned like a slut in heat, reaching down and cupping his head, urging his mouth further onto my tit. It had been so long since I had had my tits sucked, I almost came right there.
He jammed two fingers deep into my sloppy wet pussy as his mouth moved to my right nipple, giving it equal attention as my left. His breaths were already heavy and he was making low, throaty growl sounds as his mouth raped my nipples.
My pussy almost ate his fingers, sucking them into me, knuckle deep and clenching around them like a sadistic vice.
"I gotta fuck you, Carly, it's been so long since I've had sex," he whispered, yanking his fingers from my twat and lifting his body up.
Within seconds, his cock was jammed inside my cunt. He was so thick and warm and amazingly built for a man his age.
"God, your twat feels good. Let me call you slut while I fuck you," he groaned, gently pushing his cock further inside me.
"I'll be your slut, Jack," I whispered, reaching down and cupping my large tits, squeezing them together, creating the best cleavage shot I bet anyone had ever seen.
"I wanna fuck you whenever I want, slut," he growled, now thrusting his amazing dick in and out of me, "Even in my shop, I wanna bend you over in the backroom."
I was speechless, momentarily. No one had ever said such things to me. All my past lovers had been the silent types, aside from the obligatory groan when they came.
