Chapter 3

After work, Keith went to the company gym for a short workout. He took a quick shower, then went to the diner next door and ate a light meal. Heather was on a date, and he hated to cook for one. Or cook at all, for that matter. His daughter had spoiled him. She was an innovative and imaginative cook. He worried that he might develop the dreaded middle-age spare tire around his waist from eating her delicious food.

After eating, he stopped in his favorite pub for a drink. He wasn't in the mood to troll the rapids tonight. With his luck, his worm would just get another lesson in frustration. If Dame Fortune smiled in his direction at all, he might hook an undersized bone fish—all sinew and long muscle, no hips, not much ass, and hard little tits. Once in a while, the nipples were big enough to make up for the lack of meat behind them. He didn't like bone fish. Delectable, large-mouth bass, were more to his liking.

He stood at one end of the bar, ordered a Black Jack on the rocks, and looked around. His gaze passed over a young brunette sitting at the other end of the bar. She looked to be about Heather's age.

She was a tad plump, but it didn't take away from her overall attractiveness. She was wearing a low-cut, shape-hugging dress divided vertically down the middle into two colors, black on one side and white on the other side. The atypical color scheme somehow added to her appeal. The upper half of her areolae showed. She certainly had plenty of meat behind the hard nipples trying to poke holes in her dress.

She ran the tip of her tongue around her exceptionally full, brilliant red lips, and he let his gaze linger. He liked thick, bright lipstick on a woman's lips. Few women wore any lipstick at all these days. The tip of her tongue slowly skimming around her heavily painted lips held his attention like a magnet.

He took a sip of his drink and looked at Lips over the rim of his glass. She smiled and repeated the come-hither, lip-licking action.

Suddenly, he felt very horny. A fellow could do worse. She certainly wasn't a bone fish. He motioned the bartender over and ordered her a drink. He followed the drink along the bar and stood next to those opulent, bright red lips, fantasizing about them clamped around his cock.

"Hello," he said. "My name is Keith."

"Hi," Lips said demurely. "I know who you are. We work for the same company."

Her voice was tinkling, girlish. Now that he was past the exalted age of forty, he believed that a man his age shouldn't enjoy fucking a woman so young. Although, she was obvious well beyond the age of consent. Strange how lust can warp principles.

"I'm sorry. I don't recognize you."

"No reason you should. I'm a peon, and you're a big wheel. I'm Gina."

"Hello, Gina. I couldn't help noticing you. You're quite attractive, you know."

"Your honesty is refreshing." She looked him in the eye and licked her lips. "I like a man who simply introduces himself and tells me that I'm pretty. Why do some men start handing out all the bullshit about a sign, or carrying on about how important they are."

"I don't know," Keith said. "I'm not an expert on single men."

She smiled. "Even though you're single? A man could even say that he wants to get to know me better. A woman wants a man to notice her, not launch into a long-winded spiel about how great he is. The good ones show you how good they are. Hell, I'd be flattered if a man just walked up and told me that he wanted to go to bed with me." She paused and took a sip of her drink. "I'm sorry. I just had to get it off my chest. Thanks for the drink."

He didn't take her little tirade as a personal rebuke. If anything, the speech encouraged him, let him know she wanted him to approach her. He felt he had won half of the battle.

"You still have a lot left on your chest," he said boldly. "And it looks mighty good to me. I noticed you the moment I came in. Your mouth fascinates me."

She smiled coyly. The tip of her tongue made the long, slow trek around her sensuous lips again. Shivers crawled up and down his spine.

"Do you like to dance?"

His brain struggled to cope with the unexpected question. After what felt like minutes— but was actually only a couple heartbeats—he got it in gear. "Sure, as long as you don't want me to stand across the room, grin at you and flap my arms."

"There's a jukebox in the back room. Would you like to take me back there and dance with me?"

He shook off the tendency to focus on the words "take me" and nodded. "Okay," he said.

She smiled and slid off the stool. Her skirt slid up, showing her shapely thighs. They looked strong enough to break a couple of ribs. If she had as much passion as her manner implied. She grinned, smoothed her skirt and took his hand. She plugged in several quarters and made her selections. She pressed her body to him and put her arms around his neck. She rode his leg, ground her mound against his crotch, and tried to bore holes in his chest with her fat, very hard nipples. By the time the song ended, he was about ready to explode.

As they waited for the next song to start, she ran her fingers through his hair and looked into his eyes. "I'm married," she said softly. The music started. She rode his leg again as they danced.

"That's your business."

"I just wanted you to know. In case it makes any difference to you."

"It doesn't. I already knew anyway. You didn't take off your rings."

"They help keep away the men I don't want to approach me. If I'm interested, I can let a man know."

"You certainly let me know."

"Does my mouth really fascinate you?"

He had to shift mental gears to keep up with her change of direction. "Yes."

"Egyptian women painted their pussy lips red to attract men. Then they started painting their mouths red to remind men of a pussy. My lipstick melts when I get hot and leaves bright red smears all over everything I kiss."

"You don't say," he stammered.

"Have you ever been married, Keith?"

"Yes. She died several years ago.

"Did you have a good marriage?"

"I was happy, and I'm pretty sure she was. She wasn't the kind to suffer in silent desperation. If she didn't like something, she let you know in no uncertain terms."

"Good for her. Did you have any children?"

"One. A girl. She's about your age."

"Did you raise her by yourself?"

"Yes. Raising a girl was a struggle at times, but I think I did a good job. She thinks so, too. We have a good relationship."

"That's what counts," Gina said. "Where is she now?"

"She lives with me. Came back home after she finished college. She and a girlfriend own a dress shop." He felt like he was talking about himself too much. "I'm talking about myself, and you said you don't like that."

"You're only answering my questions. There's a big difference." She leaned back and grinned impishly. "Stick out your tongue."

"Pardon me?"

"Show me your tongue."

He cocked his head to one side and appraised her. The faint smile playing around the corners of her mouth didn't contradict her serious expression. He shrugged and stuck out his tongue. He felt foolish. To minimize his goofy feeling, he waggled his tongue at her.

"Very good."

"What was that all about?"

"I don't want to dance anymore," she said. "Take me home."

He thought he had struck out. She wouldn't take him home where her husband might catch them. Unless she liked to live dangerously. He didn't mind taking a reasonable risk for a good piece of ass. But running the risk of having to deal with an angry husband was beyond his limits. Well, the night was young. He could take Lips home, come back and try again.

"Okay."

"Not my home," she said quickly. "Can we go to your place?"

He breathed an inward sigh of relief. "Sure. Heather is out on a date. I don't expect her home until the wee hours."

"I have to be home long before then."

In the car, Lips sat close to him. She rubbed her dainty hand on the inside of his thigh, stopping just short of the critical spot time after time, driving him wild.

He pulled into his driveway and kissed her hard enough to rub all the lipstick off those sensuous lips. She returned the kiss with equal passion and lots of tongue as she squeezed his thigh.

She broke the kiss and leaned her head back. "I really can't stay long," she whispered. "My husband will get suspicious."

The thought of going back to the pub in such an agitated state and trying again nauseated him. This woman qualified as a first-class tease. His heart sank and his eyes lost their spirit.

"Oh, I didn't mean it that way!" she tittered.

He let his breath out with a soft whoosh. She kissed him and clung to his mouth like a leech for what seemed like five minutes. She untangled herself, grabbed his hand in a near death grip, and literally dragged him in the house.

She tossed her handbag in a chair and slithered into his arms. His desires matched hers. He slid his hands under her jaunty ass and pulled her close. He arched one eyebrow sharply.

"Would you like a drink?" he asked.

"No," she replied quickly. "I want you."

She kissed his lips quickly and stepped back. She gazed into his eyes as she reached behind her and unzipped her dress. She held the top against her chest with one hand.

This was too easy, too smooth. He thought he should have to make more of an effort to get into her panties. His treasured possession strained to escape the confines of his pants. He knew some women who would sneer at calling that anything of value.

"My husband fucks other women, Keith. Did you do that to your wife?"

He shook his head. "We swapped several times the last year before she died. She even tried it with another woman a few times."

She pulled her arms out of her dress and stepped out of it. She wasn't wearing a bra or panties. Her tits were larger than the cleavage in her dress had suggested. Her womanly hips looked solid. Tendrils of hair between her shapely thighs drew attention to her pussy. He stopped thinking about anything but the loveliness of the naked female body. His prized possession felt the same way.

"I don't think I could ever do that. Whose idea was it to swap?"

"Hers. She liked variety."

"So do I. I asked my husband if we could swap. He said he couldn't stand the idea of another man fucking me. But he still fucks other women." She saw him looking at her pussy and smiled faintly. "I wear a thong bikini when I swim at the club. My husband doesn't want me to wear something that leaves my ass bare. He thinks I have a nice ass and doesn't want other men to ogle me. Typical man, huh?"

He noticed that she didn't refer to her husband by name. "I wouldn't know," he said. His eyes wandered slowly up and down her body. "I don't see anything wrong with a woman wearing a thong bikini if she has a nice ass, like yours."

She smiled sweetly. "My husband thinks I only work out at the club. I do, but not always the way he thinks. Two can play his little game." She walked to him quickly, unzipped his pants and fished his cock out. "Oh, my, I got real lucky this time," she said softly as she yanked his dick roughly.

"Don't pull the damned thing off," he muttered as he shucked his coat and loosened his tie. "Will you do me a favor?"

"Sure, if I can."

"Fuck me first, before we do anything else. You can cum or not, whatever you want. After I cum, we can relax and enjoy ourselves."

"I might disappoint you. I'm no longer a young stud who can go all night."

"I have every faith in you," she replied.

She had his cock fully erect by the time he was naked. He went to the couch and sat down. He didn't want to wait long enough to get to the bedroom. Besides, the couch was big enough for both of them.

She picked up her handbag as she passed the chair, gliding along with a seductive, fluid grace. She set her bag on the floor, pushed him onto his back and slithered on top of him. Her satiny skin whispered faintly against his as she stretched out full length. Her firm, stiff-nippled mounds dug into his chest and her toes did a little dance along his shins. The combination made his prick throb and punch her flat belly.

She giggled softly and writhed. "I'm so glad you brought me home with you," she whispered. Her voice no longer had that girlish quality. It was husky and deep, filled with eroticism and intimacy.

"If you keep wiggling that way, you're going to make me cum. Your body feels great."

"So does yours," she giggled. "I love the feel of your cock between my thighs. I like the feel of a man's body. You could have your pick of hot young women. Why did you choose a woman who needs to lose a few pounds to look her best? Did you think I would be easier to fuck?"

"I'm not sure I made the choice," he laughed. "If I did, it was because you're a vibrant woman, and very sexy."

"I know you're lying, but I like it anyway."

She kissed him, plunged her tongue into his mouth and let it roam freely. She reached between her legs, squeezed his cock, and moaned with exhilaration. As their tongues dueled, he caressed her bare ass with one hand and fondled one of her plump tit mounds with his other hand.

She moaned lustily into his mouth. Her body burned with excitement. She sat up and looked at her tits. "God, my nipples are so hard!" She leaned over and her large tits swung down. She buried his face between the hefty mounds and shook her chest. The luxurious mounds pummeled his cheeks gently.

She kissed him again and gave him her tongue. She reached between her thighs and skimmed her delicate fingertips up and down the length of his erect prick. She took her mouth off his and mashed one tit into his face.

He cuddled the resilient mound with both hands and opened his mouth wide. He squeezed her tit, took nipple, areola and as much of her tit as he could into his mouth. The tip of his tongue cavorted around the circumference of the nipple before he sucked on it.

She got on her knees over his face. Her pussy had leaked so much, she knew the lips were dripping. "Like the view?" she asked teasingly.

"Love it," he replied.

She shivered and goose bumps popped out all over her lush body. "Letting you look at my pussy like this makes me feel like a wanton slut."

"A beautiful witch, maybe. You mesmerize me. The lips of your pussy are so wet. Makes my mouth water."

Her fervor increased by leaps and bounds. "Hold that thought. I want to feel your cock in my mouth."

"Be careful," he warned. "Your mouth looks so inviting. Once you get my cock in there, I'm afraid I won't hold back."

"Oh, you can if you try hard," she said with a chuckle.

"Hard is right. The damn things feels like it's going to burst."

Most of her lipstick was on his lips. She ran the tip of one little finger over them. "Thick lipstick turns you on, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," he replied eagerly.

She leaned over, took a tube from her handbag. She repainted her mouth, doing the job perfectly without the aid of a mirror. She gave him a seductive smile and licked her lips.

Her tits swung forward and grazed over his body as she got on her hands and knees and moved down between his legs. Her tongue snaked out and the tip curled around the knob of his stiff cock, making it glisten and shine.

He sat up and watched her. She looked so arousing on her knees with her ass in the air and her tits jiggling. She licked his prick all over. Then she began to swallow his stiff rod. She lowered her head slowly, eagerly taking every hard inch he had to offer her. Her lips touched his groin.