Skydiver Sue The End

After six weeks of silence, Sue summonsed me via text, as usual.

"Take me for a walk and do lunch?"

For those who haven't read my previous Skydiver Sue stories, Sue, now 59 to my 63, has a smile to melt your heart. What's more, she was a fit, five feet, 115 lbs (52 kgs), with pert, perfect, natural C-cup breasts, permanently erect nipples, ultra flat tummy, and firm butt.

I'd just had breakfast, luckily. When Sue texted with an invite, it meant she was ready and waiting.

I picked her up from her home and we drove to her favorite trail. Later, we relaxed in her bath, pleasantly tired from our exertions, but not too tired.

Usually, in her bath, after a long soak, she would initiate sexual contact. I just had to lie there, and let Sue do nearly all the work. Although she would deny it, it's the way she liked it--she in control.

For my part, I really didn't mind what we did and how; I just enjoyed having sex with her and would do whatever pleased her. In truth, what pleased her, pleased me.

As we lay in the bath, legs outstretched, hers inside mine, her toes caressing my testicles, I could take in her sparkling smile, her perfect C-cup breasts, and her taut body honed by years of dedicated, obsessive, even, workouts at her local gym. Only in repose did her thin, tight lips and lined face betray her age (59, now) and underlying nature, which even she, in a disarmingly frank moment, characterized as "mean."

I was in love with her, that much is surely obvious, and it hurt when she would delightedly inform me that my love was not returned. I was merely her familiar willy,

That morning, late morning, after a soak, Sue began her customary bath dance. First she stood tall, feet either side of my hips, and teased me by using her fingers to part her completely smooth pubic mound and labia and flicking her clitoris lightly with her right hand forefinger. Then she squatted down so I could get a closer look, before she tilted forward onto her knees and brought her clitoris, its now aroused, shiny glans fully exposed, within reach of my tongue.

Sue loved tongue.

But her real interest lie in making love to my cock with her tongue and mouth, so she soon lay down the bath and spent many pleasurable minutes lavishing attention on my fat 7 inches of manhood. Then, primarily to please me, I think, she squatted over my member and proceeded to ride me until she was ready to leave the bath, dry off and hit her bed.

There, she lay on her back with her spread legs bent at her knees, looking at me inquiringly. This was the one time I got to decide what came next. This time, I knew exactly what I wanted.

I positioned myself between her legs and, gently gripping the undersides of her thighs, guided them up and over so her knees were close to her ears, fully exposing her vagina and perfect little anus to my tongue and fingers.

So tempting. But today, I was on a mission.

Carefully placing my knees either side of her buttocks, I entered her pussy, and, levering off her legs, straightened into an upright position,

She fixed me with a steady gaze as I settled into my work. Unlike six weeks prior, my movements were certain, my balance steady. The exact positioning of my knees provided a solid foundation, ensuring no repetition of my previous clumsy, unbalanced attempt.

Without breaking her gaze and after some minutes of perfectly stable fucking, Sue placed her open palms onto my chest, pausing my efforts.

She spoke for the first time since leaving her bath, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I get the impression you have had sex with someone else since our last time."

Her tone was inquiring, not confrontational.

Smart lady. My improvement had not gone unnoticed, after all,

"I've been practicing this position," I replied, truthfully. "You complained, remember?"

Of course she remembered. She was a cruel lover, parsimonious with her praise and unstinting with her criticism even in moments of post-coital relaxation.

"So you did it to please me?"

"Yes," I replied, "And my balance was much better this time, wasn't it?"

She ignored my question, instead responding:

"How would you like it if I practiced with someone else?"

"Why would you? I never criticize you and I'm always available for you."

Taking advantage of the pause in proceedings, I rolled onto my back, indicating it was her turn to take the top position.

Facing me, she straddled my hard, fat cock, squatting up and down on it at a steady pace--she was proud of her ability to squat for, like, forever--but still fixing my eyes with her own steady stare.

"So if we were together," she enquired, without interrupting her squatting, "like an actual couple, and if I didn't feel like sex as often as you, would you still think it's OK to have sex with another woman?"

"Not at all," I replied, "but we're not an actual couple, are we? Nowhere near it, it fact, as you often tell me."

Whenever it suited her, she would deny we were even in a relationship--it was her way of feeling independent and in control--so it felt good to throw that back at her.

Dropping to her knees, she leaned back to afford me a great view of our mating before asking if I'd like her to turn around. When I said yes, she did so and leaned forward, flexing her hips to provide beautiful friction to my penis and perfect view to my eyes, her little anus forming an inviting "o" on the upward flex.

Reaching for the lube, I dabbed some on my right hand thumb then gently inserted it in her anus, up to the first knuckle. She never objected to anal invasion by my thumb or finger, or even two fingers, but she found my cock just too fat, leaving her sore for days after. As she would point out, she is tiny.

Eventually, I settled her onto her back and proceeded to bring her to climax with my tongue and fingers, which normally took about 15 mins, then I immediately plunged my cock into her wet pussy for as long as it took to ejaculate.

Sometime later, Sue left the bedroom, returning with a warm, damp flannel, and, as was her habit, proceeded to gently clean our sexual fluids from my now deflated penis.

"So, where are we going for lunch?" She asked, as her attention turned to the original purpose of my visit.

And just like that, the topic of "someone else" was closed. Almost.

At lunch, she gently told me, as if I hadn't already guessed, that, as she was approaching 60, her days of misbehavior (her word) were over and she only wanted occasional sex with me.

Not because she loved me--she didn't, in fact, she said, she didn't even like me very much--but because she was used to me. Her desire for sex was dwindling fast, and she found her finger a more than adequate replacement for a willy, especially with the demands that accompanied said willy.

In the meantime, she said, we will just carry on as we have been, walk, bath, sex and lunch, for fun and nothing else.

For me, that cleared the air nicely. I had my other ladies, anyway.

But I had the feeling we were just a little more distant, a little more broken and sure enough, after a few more months of increasingly erratic summonses and some savage arguments, I called it quits and moved on.