Hand Jive

“Mmmmmmm, mama,” Ryan moaned, as he snaked his sweet tongue down deep into her mouth and dug the long, strong fingers of his left hand into her round bottom. When he pressed his right palm to her breast and squeezed it through the flimsy fabric, the marshmallow flesh of her mature mams overwhelmed his fingers.

“Damn! Roxy. You are the hottest MILF I’ve never fucked!” he added, flexing his hips into hers.

“Don’t be so crude,” she said, feigning disgust, but Ryan’s youthful enthusiasm was as intoxicating as his double gin and tonics. And he was right, she had wanted it, but sanity had ruled the day. Now, history was repeating itself and she wished for an alternate ending. Unfortunately that was impossible.

“We need to go,” Maxine said, breaking the spell they were casting over each other. She reached for her jacket and hit the key fob and the back hatch began to lower.

“NO!” he blurted, snatching the keys from her and the hatch began to rise, “Just a little more. PLEASE!”

And before Maxine could decide whether or not to give him extra time to do whatever it was, Ryan lifted her onto the edge of the tailgate then ran his fingers up the back of her neck, raking her red hair and tipping the Bolts cap free. He knotted her mane in his fist and kissed her hard, then pressed her down onto her back, resting her head on a blanket. And caught up in that fiercely romantic flow, she returned his affection, green-lighting an escalation. He rolled on top of her, wedged his knees between her legs, and began to hickey and dry hump her on the cargo mat.

“Oh my God, this is insane,” Maxine groaned, as she tried to muster the will to fight her carnal craving for him.

“Damn it, baby,” Ryan said, struggling unsuccessfully to unzip her jeans, “Wish you would have worn one of your low-cut dresses.”

He chuckled.

“Ryan, this is futile,” said Maxine, pushing him off and making her way to standing, “We have to stop. We’re going to get caught!”

“OK OK you’re right.” he said, resigned, and he crawled out after her. “Just do me one little favor before we go back.”

“What favor?” she said, looking at her watch, frowning.

“Let me put my hand under that teeshirt.”

“You’re incorrigible,” she huffed, retrieving her keys.

“Please, just give me one minute with them,” he said, his hands in prayer position, “I’ve been dreaming about it for so long,” he added, doing his best sad dog impression. He tugged on the hem of the teeshirt and getting no resistance, he slipped his hand under it, placed his palm on Maxine’s warm belly, and drummed his fingers.

She glanced at her watch again, then looked at Ryan.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, all right, but make it quick!”

Ryan smiled a little boy smile, then trailed the tips of his fingers along her slim torso and up under the curve of her heavy breast.

“Mmmmmmmm,” he hummed, “Close your eyes and relax, Roxy. I want you to enjoy this as much as I’m going to.”

Maxine took a deep breath and held it as she felt the pads of Ryan’s fingers crawl up to a nipple. When he rolled it between his thumb and index finger, she exhaled, closed her eyes, and yielded to his touch. It felt good - too damn good - and her body responded: a slow spread of heat deep into her pelvis, followed by a steamy trickle of her liquor onto the soft cotton crotch of her panties. She swooned and he kissed her, sweetly at first, then with great intention, prompting her to moan into it and rest her head against his collarbone. He skated his hand to her left breast to give it equal treatment and moved his other, very gently, very slowly, to her zipper, being careful not to startle her.

“No, we can’t,” she protested weakly - too weakly to convince herself, let alone Ryan, who was damned and determined to round third base.

This time the zipper cooperated, making way for Ryan’s muscular middle finger. He slipped it beneath the scalloped lace edge of her panties, then through the densely forested mound and onto her blossoming tinkleflower - circling it with his fingernail.

“Oh my GOD!” she shouted, encouraging him to soldier on to his next objective. He dragged the hem of the teeshirt up over one of her mamasan tits; her red nipple was puckered and stiff, and the cool breeze was tickling it stiffer. Then he lowered his greedy lips and teased her circumference with his tongue. The sublime swirling of her nipple and clit in concert, stirred something in Maxine, something she hadn't experienced in a very long time.

“Ryan,” she said, her breathing ragged, “I think I might . . . I think I might . . . ”

“You think you might what, Roxanne?” he asked, smiling to himself.

“I think I might have an orgasm.”

She sounded surprised because she was. It had been ages since she’d climaxed at someone else’s urging.

“All right, Mrs. Robinson,” he chuckled, “I’ll make you cum. But you’re going to owe me and you’re going to pay up tonight.”

And driven to demonstrate his commitment and counting on some creative compensation, he shifted focus from his own immediate need to hers. He hooked his thumbs under her waistband and scooched her jeans and her panties down over her pearl white ass to her upper thighs. Exposed, nipples to nest, to the elements and to Ryan, she began to tremble.

“GodDAMN woman, you’re beautiful!” he said, as he bent to kiss her belly button, “and tonight you’re all mine.”

Ryan wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to steady and warm her. Her neck was red under her right ear where he’d sucked it rough; the sight of it made his mouth water. He kissed the spot - tenderly at first - then he opened wide and Maxine’s head lobbed to the side, unable to resist his draculaic devouring. When he wedged his hand down deep into her panties, she widened her stance, giving him the workspace he needed to slip two fingers up into that dead-end street and work her stony clit with his thumb.

“Oh shit oh fuck,” Maxine groaned, as she twerked triple-time against his prodding.

Ryan grinned. He’d never heard her swear before, and it was then he realized he had complete control over this 58-year old married woman who had tormented him with her absence. Now it was time to exert the ultimate influence. He moved his lips once more onto her heaving breast, then licked and sucked and nipped her nipple to the rhythm of the finger fucking until she had nowhere to go but over.

She cried out then came in his hand.

Hand Jive by BridgetDoone

--:--

--:--

1.0