The roses arrived late in the day, just as DiAnne was finishing up her day and preparing to walk the few steps to her home, and embark on her daily hike in the nearby rural hills of Southwestern Ohio.
Her job as a financial advisor was demanding at times, and today was especially hectic. Her hikes served as refuge from the world of international finance.
They also gave her opportunity to engage in one of her most private pleasures….masturbating in the quiet solitude, so deep within the forest that her muffled moans of self-gratitude echoed without anyone to hear.
DiAnne was especially possessed of pent-up sexual energy these days. She had been celibate for awhile now, by choice.
Not that there weren’t suitors. There were many, always attempting to crack the carnal dam that DiAnne had self-created. But DiAnne, a worldly woman, preferred quality over quantity.
Yet even the strongest dam had to break sometime.
She had recently changed her profile on a dating site and had been overwhelmed by the response of men.
At the age of sixty-three, DiAnne had a face and body that made women a quarter-century her junior shake their heads in envy. And men from twenty-five to seventy-five shake their dicks in admiration.
Five-feet-ten of lean, lithe beauty, spiky blonde hair, alluring blue eyes, and looooong legs. Thoroughbred legs. Legs that would wrap around the back and head and ass of any man fortunate enough to capture her vibrant imagination.
The object of DiAnne’s backwoods covert autoeroticism this afternoon, however, would be a man she had only spoken to on the phone, a man hundreds of miles away. How to overcome the zip code obstacle, she mused, almost not paying attention when the office receptionist gleefully announced the floral delivery.
“Ooooh, Di-Annnnnee,” Missy called out in a sing-song voice. “You have another admirer.”
DiAnne and the younger woman smiled at each other in that conspiratorial way when one knows the other either has been, or is about to be, naughty.
If only that were true in this instance, DiAnne thought to herself, as she waited for Missy to bid good-night before opening the card that accompanied the dozen white roses. She inhaled the fragrance as her long, red fingernails caressed the envelope. She read the words.
“Lunch date tomorrow. Noon. Your office. Thigh-highs and garter is the requested attire. No panties. Await further instructions.”
She put the roses in a vase on the conference table next to the small couch, and saw her reflection in the mirror next to the ground-floor window, and pulled up her dress to her belly button. “No panties,” she smiled to herself. “My normal business accessory item, anyway. Au natural. Always.”
DiAnne’s hike and associated self-stimulation session that sweltering July early evening was especially intense.
DiAnne eschewed her normal morning workout the next day. She took extra time pampering and primping herself.
She shaved her already neatly-trimmed strip of blonde pubic hair bare. Her puffy labia seemed frozen in swollen arousal. Her own eloquent motto of a perfect date resonated in her brain. She once described it to her long-distance telephonic and electronic lover this way.
“All I want to do on a date is fuck. And suck, And be sucked. Anywhere. Everywhere. In a quiet booth in a restaurant. In an alley. In the back seat or on the hood of a car. The purpose of a date is not to watch a movie, or eat dinner, or attend a social event. It’s to have things to do in between great sex.”
DiAnne pondered the possibilities of the day as she smoothed the nude-colored stockings over her shapely calves and thighs. The stockings had a navy blue lace top that connected to a garter of the same color. She kept the panties in the drawer, which of course, was as instructed. She hooked the strapless matching bra over her breasts and admired herself. Sexy, yes. Slutty, maybe.
In other words, perfect.
She next slipped the the royal blue sleeveless dress over her shoulders, which hugged her torso like a glove, accentuating her tight ass, unencumbered by any material. Last, but certainly not least, were the pair of 4-inch stiletto sandals. DiAnne rarely left for a day of work without adorning a pair of stilettos. They served the purpose of allowing her to tower over most men, as they stretched her height to a few inches north of six feet.
He, whoever he was, would like this, she assured herself as she looked in the mirror.
He would like this a lot.
She arrived at work earlier than usual, yet the next box of roses was already tucked into the vestibule of her office. Unbeknownst to her, he surreptitiously watched her reaction from the coffee shop across the street as she stooped to pick up the unexpected delivery.
She had obeyed the instructions, he smiled to himself, as he saw the hint of the lacy stocking tops as she knelt, her legs parting just enough for him to get the confirmation he had hoped for.
She was ready and willing.
Once gaziantep escort safely by her desk, she opened this morning’s present. Orchids. This time, they were orchids. A mix of vibrant lavender and magenta-hued. Again, she inhaled the delicious aroma that emitted from the flowers, and anxiously opened the card.
“Find reasons to say ‘yes’; not excuses to say ‘no’. Await further instructions.”
“I’m going to have to find a reason to give Missy a paid half-day off today,” DiAnne thought to herself. “There’s no fucking way I’m going to be able to get anything done today, anyway.”
It was difficult to tell which news Missy was happier to hear when she came into the office. The fact that she had a paid afternoon off, or the excitement she shared with her boss when she saw the orchids.
The two of them were giggling like schoolgirls and wondering which one of DiAnne’s suitors was the mystery ‘instructor’ when yet a third package arrived. The square shape of the FedEx box clearly showed that these were not flowers. DiAnne invited Missy to stay so they could be together when Di opened the box.
DiAnne nervously opened the wrapping paper. The cool, calm executive, who had pretty much seen and done it all when it came to being romanced, was legitimately aroused. Her perfectly manicured finger trembled slightly as the contents of the box came into view.
It was a small pink teddy bear, adorable, with a heart-shaped white-gold ankle bracelet wrapped around its furry paw. DiAnne’s heart skipped a beat.
She wasn’t expecting this. At sixty-three, she was not above getting a gift that would make a schoolgirl croon. Except this mature schoolgirl’s nipples now pushed tight against her lacy bra and the moisture from her warm slit started to creep slowly from her inner labia.
She again opened the pink envelope that contained the card.
“A big package will be delivered at noon. You won’t need instructions this time to know what to do. Give Missy a half-day off. And leave the front door open.”
“Great minds think alike,” DiAnne declared to Missy as she showed her receptionist the note, putting the bracelet on her slim ankle. The rest of the morning dragged along interminably until Missy began to leave the office about quarter to twelve.
“You do know you’ll have to tell me all about this tomorrow, don’t you?” It wasn’t so much a question from Missy as it was a statement that inquiring minds would have to be told. DiAnne hugged her devoted assistant and sat at her desk to wait. Wet. God, she hadn’t been this wet in a long time.
By twelve twenty-five, DiAnne was on the emotional precipice of both profound disappointment and sincere anger. Was this all a tease? She peered between one of the closed blinds on her window, with her back to the door.
She was admiring the small porcelain vase filled with the fresh flowers when she heard the doorknob turn and a man enter.
She heard his steps come up slowly behind her until she could feel his hot, warm breath on her neck.
She felt his hands, large and strong, slide around her waist and reach up to gently caress her slender hips. She sighed and leaned back against him. As she did she could feel his hardness pressing against her back.
She turned to face him. It was him, her long-distance cyber lover, the object of her recent masturbation delights deep in the woods.
He was a very handsome man ..she had to admit. Even better in person than in the one photo she had seen of him. Despite being several inches shorter than DiAnne with her heels on, he was muscular beneath his crisp white starched shirt and red necktie.
She wondered now why she had twice rebuffed his offer to fly him to his hometown of Philadelphia for a weekend tryst of sexual aerobics. She reasoned that a long-distance affair wasn’t quite what she wanted now, despite the attraction she felt when she read his e-mails or heard his voice.
She had concocted excuses to say ‘no’. That hadn’t made him happy, apparently. So he had come to visit.
His green eyes twinkled. He reached up and drew his face to hers and kissed her, and waited patiently for DiAnne to nibble on his upper lip, just as she had indicated was her favorite spot to explore initially. Soon their tongues were slowly, intimately dancing back and forth, swirling around…teasing and titillating.
DiAnne finally, reluctantly, brought her mouth from his. “Hello, John,” she whispered softly.
“Hello, DiAnne,’ he replied in that deep sexy voice. “Zip code problem solved.”
No words were spoken. None were needed.
They kissed passionately for the next ten minutes or so, savoring the taste of each others’ mouths, further enhancing the foreplay and sexual tension escalating in the room like the sweltering heat outside.
He did not touch her during that time, though, remembering her admonition that she was the one who would grant permission to do so, even though her hands ran liberally over his face, shoulders, and back, pressing her body into hatay escort his.
But a man can only exhibit so much self-control.
John took her hand and placed it on his crotch. DiAnne could feel his hardness within, straining to get out.
She drew back slightly and whispered softly to him. “Do you want me to take it out?”
“Not yet,” he answered. “I just want you to know how excited you get me.”
“I can feel it,” DiAnne replied…then fondling his straining cock she continued. “And judging from this, you must really like me. A lot.” She smiled at John.
John nodded in agreement. His heart was already starting to thump wildly at the prospect of having this lovely woman touch his cock. And beyond.
Staring into his eyes, DiAnne reached down and traced her fingers down the length of his straining zipper. She could feel the heat emanating from the pulsing organ within.
She drew her long fingernails across the apex of the tent, right where she knew the head of John’s cock would be lodged in its attempt to break free of the confines of his pants. She drew her fingers up and down the length of his shaft, now obvious in the tent of his trousers.
He continued to gaze into her deep blue eyes. “This is a nice office you have here…” he said simply. “Do you suck a lot of cock in it?”
The bold question caused DiAnne to involuntarily accelerate the stroking through the fabric.
She looked down on him from her vantage point of maybe four inches above him. “Is that what you’d like me to do…suck your cock?”
John smiled…that’s exactly what he wanted…but few women could do it the way he wanted…for although his was not an overly long cock, measuring just over seven inches, it was also as thick around as DiAnne’s wrist…with a head even larger…like a giant mushroom perched on the top of a thick post.
John nodded again. “Yes, that’s what I’d like you to do…but,not yet… I like what you’re doing right now.”
Mmmmmmm,” purred DiAnne, licking her wet lips. John admired her mouth as her tongue traced a slow path along those lips. She had a great mouth, a wide mouth. A perfect cocksucking mouth. His attention was diverted southward as he felt her left hand drift down to join the other.
“You mean this…” And again she started a slow stroking motion along the shaft of John’s concealed cock. She alternated between using her fingertips and her nails, tracing her way from the thick base to the flared head…scratching his balls through the thin material.
John couldn’t help but admire her body…her chest heaved up and down in the bodice of her dress, her flushed neck begged to be sucked…he could smell her soft perfume as she leaned forward and her hair brushed against his face. He pictured her soft tongue snaking out to swipe over his cockhead every time he came close to her face. His erection intensified as DiAnne continued to fondle him.
DiAnne loved the feel of his hard cock through the fabric of his pants…but now she wanted to feel its hot flesh in her hand…
John felt the same and desperately wanted his imprisoned cock freed.
John was first to speak…”I’d like to see you naked …” he said. “Take off your dress…”
“Gladly,” said DiAnne obediently. “But I’ll have to stop doing this while I do it…” She teased…stopping her stroking and stepping back…and then she added…”and I get to see you naked also.”
“Agreed,” smiled John. That’s exactly what he had in mind.
Di turned away from John. “I’ll need some help here…” She said as she motioned to the back of her dress…”Unzip me please..”
John quickly complied and slowly slid the zipper down DiAnne’s fabulous back. The soft satiny straps of her bra came into view as did the top of her garter. John’s cock became even harder as more and more of her luscious body came into view.
John moaned with delight. Her lingerie was perfect…she couldn’t have dressed herself any sexier…and in a minute she’d be inviting his big cock down her throat. His lust for her intensified as he watched her drop the dress to the floor.
DiAnne let the entire dress drop slowly to the floor, letting John take in a good view of her back side…she knew it was her second best asset. (Her legs were a definite number one.) She bent down to pick up the dress, and in doing so, the thin folds of her labia parted slightly, permitting John a view of her already saturated and unobstructed pussy.
She stood up, placed the dress on a chair and looking over her shoulder, asked John seductively, “Like what you see?”
“You are amazing,” he answered, his eyes scanning her body…”I saw you earlier this morning when you picked up the orchids in the doorway……yes, I was watching you…..and I felt my cock already start to twitch just by looking at you. You are strikingly beautiful and sexy…classy yet slutty…”
He stopped and smirked at her with a little boy who was about to steal some treats. “And soon to be hungrily sucking on the cock of a hatay escort strange man in your office, a man you never before met…”
Still facing away from John, still somewhat reluctant to relinquish mind control despite practically panting to make oral love to that monster beneath the trousers, she asked, “What makes you think I’ll suck your cock?”
“Ah,” answered John. “Remember the instructions. Find reasons to say ‘yes’, not excuses to say ‘no’. Remember?” He smiled that little boy grin.
Dianne smiled back and motioned him to disrobe. “Now you… you came all this way. Show me that cock, John.”
John slipped his zipper down and undid his belt. DiAnne could hear nothing but the sound of John’s deep heavy breathing, almost a panting now…and the rustling of his clothes. She watched wide-eyed as he lowered his pants…and gasped as the huge mushroom-like head of his cock, already sticking out the leg of his boxer shorts, came into view.
“My God…..it’s huge,” she murmured, truly impressed, mesmerized by the visibly pulsing corona of the purple head.
John pulled down his boxers and immediately the thick shaft sprang into full view.
Dianne’s heartbeat increased just at the sight of it bobbing slowly, beckoning her to come closer…drawing her soft red lips to the shining knob. DiAnne had sucked many a nice cock in her day, and before doing so, most men had a less than attractive habit of falsely advertising their girth. No such truth-in-advertising violations existed here. This cock was truly one for the ages. And DiAnne liked big cocks. Any woman who claimed size didn’t matter should see this beer can of a cock, she mused.
As she turned to fully face John, she noticed his eyes grow wider as the full vision of her lingerie clad body came into the light.
She was sure his cock had grown another inch in length and circumference as his eyes continued to rove over her body.
Locking eyes with him, she stepped forward, bent down… and gently took one of his heavy balls in the palm of her hand.
John could feel the soft feathery touch of her palm as well as the eager stroking of her long fingers as she moved her hand back from his balls and teased along the perineum, right under his sac. He thought she was going to stick her finger in his ass……but she didn’t.
DiAnne smiled. “Feel good?” she asked…knowingly. John nodded.
“Bet this feels even better,” she added as she placed her other hand firmly around the shaft of his cock. The pale skin of her palm contrasted with the flaming reddish-purple of John’s pulsing cock. She squeezed gently, then harder and harder…so hard that the skin of his cock adjacent to her tightly clenched fingers turned an ivory white. The head of John’s cock began to swell as the surging blood was now trapped by her tight fist.
DiAnne fixed eye contact with him again. As she did so, she reached up to the base of his balls and pinched gently…taking one between her thumb and forefinger she rubbed it back and forth. As she did this she tightened her grip on his shaft and began a slow rhythmic stroking back and forth along its length …still squeezing him as hard as she could. An intense though sensual handjob.
Aware of the profound effect she was having on him, DiAnne smiled up at him…and continued to lead him closer and closer to orgasmic bliss. His heart thumped faster and faster. John groaned loudly…
“Oh yeah baby…” she encouraged him with her mellifluous tone. “I can tell you like that…don’t you? And I haven’t even sucked your cock yet….have I…?”
She continued to stroke him. He thought he would soon burst. He thought of baseball to try to resist cumming in her hands. (Hey, it sometimes works!)
DiAnne continued, now rubbing her cheek along the conundrum of soft penile skin and rock-hard shaft. “You love it when I slide my hands along your thick shaft…don’t you…hmmmm, hmmm..” she asked rhetorically.
“Oh John… your cock feels so big and hard in my hands…it’s huge…and I have big hands…oh, I just love big cocks…and yours is so massive…oh yeah baby…I want to pump you dry baby…mmmmm, yeah…I want to see you cum…”
She stroked him faster and harder. “Watch me in the mirror, John…see how fast my hand is sliding along your cock…John…see how the big head pops out from my fist…oh fuck…what a great cock you have…and such big, lovely, fucking balls,” she added as an afterthought…squeezing one hard in her hand. She looked down admiringly at his huge equipment and wondered just how much semen they must contain. Like a water tower full of jism.
The sight of this sexy mature vixen with one hand curled tightly around his cock and the other palming his balls again almost made him blow his wad right then and there…but somehow he held back. He could not remember a time when he was this excited. He looked down as she continued to pound mercilessly away at his cock.
DiAnne then suddenly stood straight up and forward and nibbled along the edge of his ear…slowing her motion, his cock wildly pulsing visibly in anticipation. “Want me to suck it?” she whispered, gently speeding up the motion again, still with her fist clenched around his girth. Within seconds her fist was pounding violently against his balls.