Fun with Dick and Jane Ch. 01

Fun with Dick and Jane, Chapter 01

Young, sexy woman teaches an innocent older man about sex.

My name is Richard Carson. My friends call me Dick. A bit naïve, I never knew that Dick could be used as a derogatory name until I went out on a first date with a sixty-something-year-old, attractive, and busty woman. When I dropped her off at her home after our date, while hoping for more, at least, I expected her to give me a goodnight's kiss. Instead, abruptly leaving my car and slamming shut my car door in indignation, she called me dick.

"Dick," she said without turning to wave me goodbye.

Disappointed that she didn't give me a goodnight's kiss, it would have been nice if she had blown me a kiss as she was leaving but, she didn't even do that. To be honest, I would have loved to have kissed her. With her a good looking woman with big tits, I would have loved to part her red, full, lipstick clad lips with my tongue and French kissed her.

To be honest, I hoped she would have invited me to her apartment for a nightcap. At the very least, I would have loved to have made out with her in the front seat of my car while feeling her abundant breasts through her blouse and her bra. With some men leg men and other men ass men, I'm a breast man. I love women who have big tits, the bigger the better. She certainly has big breasts, at least a D cup if not a double D cup.

After I bought her an expensive dinner, with a vintage bottle of French wine, she caught me by surprise. I didn't understand why she referred to me in such a disrespectful way by calling me a name until I realized that, perhaps, it was because I hadn't made a move on her. Sometimes I wonder with me an elderly man what the Hell am I waiting for before making my move? Respectful of women, especially when on a first date, wanting to make a good impression, I'm sometimes too shy around sexy women.

I'm even shier when around beautiful women, putting them high up on pedestals, women who I think are out of my reach, make me nervous. Indeed, looking ten-years younger, she was quite good looking, especially for a woman her age. Yet, not even holding her hand, or making eye contact when talking to her, I didn't even try to kiss her goodnight. One would think that a man my age, acting so reserved, wouldn't blush but I did. She probably thought that I didn't like her when, in fact, I did like her.

Now that I think of it, fitting the description, I guess I am a dick. Instead of listening to her, and asking questions about her, preoccupied with myself, with me feeling too nervous, I talked too much about myself. Lonely and unaccustomed to being around people, I tend to lecture people and pontificate my points. Too free with my advice on how people that I just met can improve their lives, I get it now. Maybe that would explain why I'm not only alone but also, I've never been in a serious relationship, and have never been married.

'Duh. I'm such a dick,' I thought. 'I am a dick.'

###

I work as an engineer. I deal with numbers, facts, and figures, rather than the capricious nature and the emotional wants, needs, desires, when in a personal relationship with a woman. Clueless about women, forget about picking up on their subtle clues and/or their innocent flirtations, seldom recognizing them, I totally miss them. No doubt, the reason why I haven't had any luck dating, out of step, I'm never on the same page with women.

I'm not a bad looking man, if I do say so myself. Actually again, if I do say so myself, I'm quite good looking, especially when comparing myself to other men my age. Women are surprised when I tell them how old I am. They all tell me that I don't look my age. With me having all of my teeth and all of my hair, and having a quick step to my walk, they tell me that I look and act ten-years younger.

No doubt, because I'm intelligent, articulate, educated, and have a quick wit and a good sense of humor, I get a lot of dates. Again, because I'm intelligent, articulate, educated, and have a quick wit and a good sense of humor, I have a lot to say. Unfortunately, not giving women a chance to talk, perhaps, I'm too talkative. Yet, I'm so lonely that when I finally have someone's ear, I have the tendency to talk their ears off. To be honestly critical of myself, I never stop talking. I never shut the fuck up.

'Talking about me, me, and me, how dare I control the conversation and not give her the floor to speak,' I thought?

Finally, I knew what I'm doing wrong. Actually, self-analyzation is not easy for me to do. I get a lot of first dates but I rarely get a second date. My life is a bit like Adam Sandler's life in that movie, Fifty First Dates. Only, with me not getting a second date, I can multiply that number times two, 100 first dates. I've dated so many women over five decades but, sadly, rarely do they want to date me again.

Other than sometimes receiving a goodnight's kiss, I can't recall the last time that I've received a French kiss. While waiting for her to part my lips with her tongue, never taking the lead, I've never tried to French kiss her. Never mind making it to first base by kissing her, I seldom make it to second base by feeling her breasts through her blouse and her bra. I'm definitely doing something wrong for women not to want to continue dating me.

'What's wrong with me,' I thought? 'I'm such a loser. I am a dick, a big dick.'

###

I don't smell bad. Actually, I smell good. I shower before my date and wear cologne. I'm clean shaven.

I make a good impression and a good appearance. I dress nice wearing a sport coat, a color coordinating shirt, creased pants, and polished shoes. I even wear a tie and decorate my sport coat with a pocket square, depending on where I'm taking her.

I even have a sweet car to pick them up in and drive her home. I have a beautiful, metallic sky blue, 1963 Ford Thunderbird convertible, a real classic car. Respecting their coiffed hair, I don't drive with the top down.

I'm a 72-year-old lonely and horny man. I'm 6'4" tall, and have a physically fit but not overly muscular, 190 pound body. Something that most men can't proclaim, skills that I will always have, and something that I'm proud of having, able to protect my date, I'm proficient in martial arts.

Yet, still productive, not ready to retire, and still gainfully employed, but collecting a full Social Security benefits check, I work as a consulting engineer. Because of my age, I can work as many hours as I want without having my Social Security penalized. The nice thing about consulting is that I'm free to pick and choose not only my clients but also my hours.

I have dark blonde, salt and pepper hair with piercing hazel, blue eyes. Never married or even engaged, single with no children and no pets, too focused on my studies, I didn't even date in high school or in college. Missing out on many social activities, I didn't even attend my prom. Not much of a drinker, missing out on much of the free sex, I didn't attend any frat parties or go on spring break. Yet, always looking, alas, with me being too critical of women, I never found the right one.

Fortunately, for me, something that makes me very proud, and something that few women get to discover, and something that most men wished they had, I'm well endowed. When fully erect, my cock is 8" long and 6" around, well above average. According to penis sizes on the internet, my erect penis is considered big, really big.

Over the years, perhaps because it's not only big but heavy, too, I've had women who I've had the pleasure of having sex with me teasingly refer to my cock as the hammer. Unfortunately, especially now that I'm older, even though I can still get and maintain erections, I seldom get to use it. I seldom pound a woman's pussy with my hammer. Instead, I self-abuse myself by masturbating. I spend my time watching porn on the internet and reading stories on Literotica while imagining having sex with porn stars.

###

Something as exciting as it is torturing, I'm physically, emotionally, and sexually attracted to Jane Johnson. She's a secretary who I work with at one of the companies where I consult. As if I'm a horny teenage boy instead of an elderly man, while staring at her with big puppy eyes, I have a huge crush on her.

Clearing my schedule and putting their appointments first on my calendar, I can't wait to see her again. I can't wait to talk to her. I can't wait to reconnect with her. I love being with her.

She's so beautiful. She's so sexy. She's so shapely. Trying not to stare, I can't stop looking at her. Finding her so interesting, with her a breath of fresh air, I love talking to her.

If there was a woman who I'd love to spend the rest of my life with, that woman would be Jane Johnson. With the emotions and desires that I feel for her, I dare say that I love her. I do. I really love her.

I think about her on my drive to her office and on my drive home. I dream about her. I masturbate over her while imagining her wearing her short, sheer, low-cut and sexy nightgowns. I imagine seeing her in her low-cut bras and French bikini panties. I stroke my cock faster while visualizing her topless. I stroke my prick harder while envisioning her naked.

Having never fallen in love with anyone, I love Jane Johnson. Only, someone who looks like her could never love someone who looks like me. Why would such a beautiful, 54-year-old woman be interested in a 72-year-old man, a man old enough to be her father?

###

Not stopping with just lusting over her, I imagine kissing her. Parting her red, full lips with my tongue, I envision French kissing her. I visualize making out with her while she allows me to feel her big breasts through her blouse and her bra, and her shapely ass through her short skirt and panties. Then, with her consensually willing for me to remove her clothes, I picture myself slowly, sexily, and seductively undressing her.

'Oh, my God,' I thought while stroking myself faster and harder.

I visualize taking my time unbuttoning her blouse while continuing to kiss her. I look to see what each unbuttoned button reveals before unbuttoning the next button. Then, as soon as her blouse is unbuttoned, I part it open as if pushing open the pearly gates of heaven.

I imagine peeling her blouse back to stare at her bra clad breasts, the tops of her meaty, jiggling tits, and her long line of sexy cleavage. I envision slowly tracing her cleavage with my finger. Then, as if on vacation in Germany, I imagine that I'm a Norwegian, Olympic skier skiing down the slopes of the Bavarian Alps while yodeling as I slowly slide my finger down her cleavage.

'Yodel Addy Hoo,' I think in my horny and sexually frustrated mind.

###

Whenever I masturbate over the thought of having sex with Jane, which seemingly is all the time, I act more like a testosterone filled, horny teenager than I do an elderly man. Even though I look at a lot of pornography while imagining having sex with porn stars, I masturbate over Jane, only her. Not wanting to waste my cum on any other woman, she is the only woman worthy of ejaculating over.

While stroking myself, again, I think of her wearing a sexy, short, sheer, low-cut, and sexy nightgown. I imagine seeing the size and the shape of her big breasts through her nearly transparent nightie. I imagine seeing her symmetrical areolas and her big, erect nipples. Glad that she's well-endowed as a woman, I love her big breasts.

Again, every time I play with myself, I imagine her in her low-cut bra and in French bikini panties. Oh, my God, something that I'd love to see before I die, I'd love to see her in her sexy lingerie. Stroking myself faster while visualizing her big and shapely, naked breasts, I imagine her topless. Stroking myself harder, I imagine her naked. I envision her naked ass and her naked pussy while jerking off.

Cumming all over my chest, my stomach, and my hand, wishing I could cum in her mouth, I imagine her blowing me. I envision her stroking my cock while sucking my prick. I visualize cumming in her mouth and her swallowing my cum. I imagine exploding a second load of cum all over her beautiful face, in her lush, blonde hair, and across her big, naked breasts.

Then, after fingering and licking her pussy and giving her an orgasm with my fingers and my tongue, I imagine making slow, sweet, and passionate love to her. Then, I imagine fucking her. Fucking her hard enough and fast enough, I imagine her giving her another orgasm, this time with my cock.

'I love you, Jane,' I say over and over when playing with myself. 'I love you.'

###

She works for one of the firms that hires me to consult. She's 54-years-old but, not looking her age, she looks ten-years younger. She's 5'-8" tall and 5'11" with her high heels, the perfect height for me. With me being good with numbers and having a mind for measuring things in my work, judging her dimensions with just my eyes, she appears to have a 34D-24-34" sexy and shapely figure. She has blonde hair, big, blue eyes, a beautiful smile, and is very good looking.

With me, a very likeable guy, again, if I say so myself, as long as I'm not being boring by talking about myself too much, Jane is more than just a co-worker. She's a close, personal friend. We talk about everything and laugh over nothing. I'm never bored talking to Jane. She's a woman that I'd love to sit with her while cuddling and sharing a bowl of popcorn while watching a movie.

Alas, if I wasn't so much older than her, again, old enough to be her father, I'd ask her out. I'd love to date her. I'd love to be her daddy, as long as she returned my financial support by giving me some sugar, I'd settle for being her sugar daddy. Wishing that I was a billionaire, I wish I had the money to buy her a new car and a condo in a high rise building. Willing to financially support her, I'd love to be in a serious, sexual relationship with her.

'I love you, Jane,' I thought every time I thought about her.

Already having deep romantic feelings of love for her, I definitely could get serious about her if she showed me a sign that she wanted to be serious about me. Yet, that's my problem in a nutshell. I'm a dick. Regretting many missed, sexual opportunities, I'm unable to make the first move. I expect women to make the first move to seduce me instead of me making the first move to seduce them.

Yet, with her one in a million, and with her checking all of the boxes on my impossible to match, perfect mate list, she's the woman who I'd love to have in my life. Indeed, and again, she's beautiful, sexy, and shapely. She has a quick wit and great sense of humor. She's funny and fun to be around. While wishing that I could spend even more quality time with her, I love spending time with Jane.

Even if she doesn't share my feelings of desire, even if she never dates me, even if we never even kiss her, never mind having sex with her, I've written her in my will. I'm leaving her everything, my house, my car, and my savings. If I'm unable to make her life better while I'm living, I hope to make her life better after I'm dead.

'I love you, Jane,' I thought again and every time I think of her.

###

We get along so well. I love talking to her. Yet, with me not good at reading signals, I don't know if she likes me as a friend or is interested in me romantically. I can't tell. I have no idea. Moreover, my dilemma, I don't know if she wants me as much as I want her. No doubt, with her able to get any man that she wants, why would someone who looks like her want to have sex with someone who looks like me?

Sex? Even though I'd settle for having sex with Jane, I'd rather have a lifelong commitment. I mean, with the average living age for a man at 78-years-old, seriously, how much longer do I have to live? I'd love for her to be my wife.

That's my problem. With me strictly business, keeping our relationship professional so as not to lose my consulting client, and missing spending time with Jane, I'm not very romantic. Yet, whenever we're together, as if dating her, taking it to the next level, unlike so many of my first dates, she's always smiling up at me and making constant eye contact with me. I dare say, she likes me.

When I'm with her, talking less because I find her so interesting to listen to, hanging on, memorizing, and devouring every word, I listen to all that she has to say. Something that I seldom do with my first date women, I continually ask her questions. I want to know more about her. I need to know everything. Making eye contact with her, difficult for me to do, so I try not to stare at her. Yet, with her so attractive, as if staring at a supermodel, I have a hard time looking away.

When she's not teasing me, joking with me, and we're laughing together, she's flirting with me. She constantly touches my hand, my arm, my shoulder, my back, and my knee. While hoping that I'm reading her correctly, I suspect that she's interested in dating me but at my advanced age, with me nearly 20-years older than her, I'm afraid to ask her out.

I don't want to ruin the good friendship that we have while hoping for more. I wish I was fifteen-years younger. I wish she was ten-years older. I wished Jane loved me as much as I love her.

###

Jane told me that she has a daughter, Chelsey, who is also single but lives on her own and has her own apartment. Chelsey visits her mom occasionally. I'd love to meet her daughter. It would be a bonus if her daughter not only looked like her but also, if she liked me and approved of me as well.

A private person, even though we've talked for hours, Jane hasn't revealed much about her personal life. I wonder why someone who looks like her is still single. Afraid to ask, and really not wanting to know, I wonder if she's dating anyone or in a serious relationship with someone.

Possibly, Jane wonders the same things about me. Maybe she wonders why I'm still single, have never married, and have no children. Maybe she thinks that I'm gay. Maybe she wonders if I'm dating anyone or I'm in a serious relationship with someone.

With her always complimenting me for being so smart, Jane seems fascinated by my big brain. My problem with women persists with Jane. Never flirting with her, careful not to offend her, I'm quiet around her. I don't open up about my personal life. And even with Jane, especially with her, I tend to talk too much. Yet, she seems to enjoy listening to me as much as I enjoy listening to her.

After my last date called me a dick, I'm conscious of the fact I need not to talk so much about myself. I don't want Jane to think me a dick. I don't want to chase her away, either. Even though I'm a considerate gentleman around her, I have great difficulty expressing my desire for her. No doubt, she'd think that I'm too old for her. Even worse, she'd think me a dirty, old man.

Then, surprising me, Jane was the one who took the first step. Seemingly, she realized that she needed to get me out of the office. She invited me to lunch, at a restaurant that was more of an intimate setting, instead of a business atmosphere. As we grew to know one another better over lunch while talking more freely and openly, with her seemingly enjoying my company as much as I enjoyed her company, she suggested that I take her to dinner.

I hesitated but with her planning the dinner and making the next move that I'm unable to make, how could I refuse? Making me think that it was my idea, she subtly arranged for us to date by disguising it just as a dinner. After dinner, as soon as I drove her home, she invited me for a nightcap at her condo.

'Oh, my God. I'm going to be alone with Jane,' I thought.

###

"I need to go home first," I said. "I need to walk my dog but I'll be back."

Hoping she didn't ask me what kind of dog that I have, I didn't have a dog. I just needed a minute to get my head around what was about to happen. I was about to be alone with Jane in her condo.

As soon as I got home, I quickly showered and dressed. Before arriving at her condo, wanting to impress her, I picked up a dozen red roses, a bottle of white wine, and some Italian cookies. I allowed my imagination to run wild what would happen with me finally alone with her in her condo.

Unable to stop my horny imagination, after she became a little tipsy from drinking the wine, I imagined kissing her, French kissing her. I imagined her returning my French kiss with her deep, wet kiss. I visualized making out with her while touching and feeling her everywhere through her clothes.

Then, not stopping there, I envisioned slowly undressing her and stripping her naked. I pictured myself touching, feeling, and fondling her naked body everywhere that I'd love to touch, feel, and fondle her naked body. Only, with me seldom making it to second base, I'd be lucky to kiss her, hold her, and hug her while filling my nostrils with her perfume.

Nonetheless, allowing my imagination to run wild, I imagined having sex with her. Finally, as if we were making our own private movie, I pictured her daughter not only catching us having sex but wanting to join us, too. The pervert in me, I imagined having threesome sex not only with Jane but also with her daughter, Chelsey, too. For me to imagine having sex with not only mother but with her daughter, too, it was then that I realized that my horniness and sexual frustration was out of control.

'Suck my cock, Chelsey,' I imagined saying. 'Stroke me while sucking me. I want your mother to watch me ejaculate my cum in your beautiful mouth. I want her to watch you swallow my cum.'

Thankfully, all that I had imagined never happened. Nothing more than a fantasy, my mind after having read too many erotic stories on Literotica, my mind always imagined such scenarios. I returned to Jane's condo, nevertheless, as a happy man.

###

As soon as she opened her door to greet me, I presented her with the roses, the wine, and the cookies. She accepted the roses, the wine, and the cookies. Still dressed in her work clothes, she excused herself.

"Sorry," she said. "I lost track of time. I was on the phone with my daughter. I'm just going to take a quick shower."

As soon as she told me that she was going to shower, allowing my mind to play out my fantasies, I imagined her removing her clothes. I imagined her removing her blouse, her short skirt, her bra, and her panties. With her only wearing four articles of clothing, wishing I could play strip poker with her, I imagined Jane losing at cards. I imagined Jane naked.

Then, again, not stopping there, I pictured her inviting me to shower with her. How hot would that be to strip myself naked and shower with Jane? I envisioned us having sex in the shower. I visualized us making love and fucking in the shower. As if the shower was a waterfall, I imagined bending her over and fucking her from behind. Then, I pictured her on her knees blowing me while staring up at me to show me my big dick in her beautiful mouth.

Only, getting way ahead of myself and getting a hold of myself, I removed my mind from out of the gutter. She invited me to her condo for a nightcap and not for sex. Jesus, what's wrong with me? Telling me where to sit, she offered me a seat on her couch.

A small two bedroom, one bath condo, yet, big enough for one person, her bathroom was just across the hall from where I was sitting, and only ten feet from me. As soon as I heard the water running, I turned my head. She had her bathroom door open enough to let out the steam and, excitingly, enough for me to see her. I wondered if she wanted me to sit here to see all that I had imagined seeing of her sexy and shapely, naked body.

###

Blowing my mind, with her standing in the opening as if she was deliberately flashing me, I watched her undress. Seeing her from the side, she mindlessly stared up at the bathroom ceiling as if she was lost in thought while slowly undressing. Seemingly with her unaware or forgetting that I was sitting there staring, I watched her unbutton her blouse. As if she was a stripper on stage doing a striptease just for me while dancing around a pole to music, I watched her remove her blouse.

'Something that I'll be masturbating over for the rest of my horny life, I can't believe that I'm seeing Jane in her bra,' I thought.

I stared at her big, white, lacy, low-cut bra. I stared at the tops of her jiggling breasts and her long line of sexy cleavage. Then, while she continued staring up at her bathroom ceiling while paying no attention to me, I watched her unbutton and unzip her short skirt. I watched her short skirt slowly slide to her ankles opposite in the way that my cock quickly erected itself in my pants. I stared at her round panty clad ass and her toned stomach.

Then, while she brushed her hair and brushed her teeth, I stared at her in her sexy low-cut bra and her French bikini panties. There's something exciting when seeing women in their sexy lingerie. Sometimes, I prefer seeing women in their underwear, their bras, and their panties, than seeing them topless and/or naked. Always giving them a shapelier body than they have, by hiding many of their faults, lingerie gives women better and sexier bodies.

Then, as if there was a drumroll of sexual anticipation going off in my horny head, I held my breath while watching her reach around behind her to unhook her bra. As if she was stripping in slow motion, I watched her remove her bra straps from her shapely shoulders, first one and then the other. I watched her remove her arms from her bra straps, first one and then the other.

Finally, as if she was about to remove her bra, I stared at her holding her bra cups in place with her hands. Again, something else that I'll be masturbating over later and for the rest of my horny life, I held my breath while staring at all that she was showing, and all that I was seeing. Then, ever so slowly, sexily, and seductively, as if she knew that I could see her and was there holding my breath while staring, she removed her bra cups, first one and then the other.

'I'm seeing Jane topless,' I thought.

As if I was seeing the eighth and ninth wonders of the world, there they were her amazing breasts. They were so big, so full and, seemingly, so firm. Standing proudly on her chest, I had to wonder if they were natural or enhanced.

If they were enhanced, her plastic surgeon was an artist. Hoping she'd give me the chance, with me a breast man, I couldn't wait to touch them, feel them, and fondle them while pinching, pulling, turning, twisting, and sucking her erect nipples. I loved her big tits.

###

She quickly showered. Continuing to give me a naked show, as soon as she stepped out of the shower, while she stared down at herself and seemingly oblivious to my stare, I watched her dry her body with her towel. Then, she wrapped a towel around her hair and another towel around her body. She quickly blew dried and brushed her hair before disappearing in her bedroom.

'Show over,' I thought. 'Nonetheless, she had given me plenty to masturbate over later.'

Even though I'd hate to prematurely leave, I couldn't wait to go home. I couldn't wait to jerk off to all that I've seen of Jane. I couldn't wait to stroke my cock to all that I wanted to do to her beautiful, naked body.

Her bedroom was next to the bathroom and across from the living room where I was sitting on the couch. Not even having to turn my head, her mirror in the living room, angled toward her bedroom, gave me the perfect view inside of her bedroom. I could see her king-sized bed. I could see her picture of a sunrise that promised me a new tomorrow hanging over her bed. I could see her standing in front of her full-length mirror.

Again, holding my breath in anticipation, I watched her towel slowly slide from her naked body. Not only did she have perfect breasts but she had a shapely ass, and a toned stomach, too. I stared at her perfect legs and her naked ass in the way that I stared at her naked breasts and her blonde, trimmed pussy through the living room mirror and through her full-length bedroom mirror.

With her giving me quite the naked show of her amazing body, I wondered if she knew that I could see her without her clothes. While hoping that she was, I figured that she was teasing me by deliberately flashing me. I figured that she wanted me to see her without her clothes as much as I wanted to see her naked. For her to show me what I needed to see, I couldn't wait to leave her all of my possessions and all of my money when I die.

Back and forth and to and fro, I watched her walk around her bedroom naked. She opened a drawer, pulled out a nightgown, and tossed in on her bed. Then, before putting on her nightie, craning my neck to see, I stared at her sitting at her vanity table while still naked.

I watched her reapply her makeup. Then, I watched her brush her beautiful, blonde hair one-hundred strokes on each side. As hypnotizing as it was mesmerizing, I watched her naked breasts bounce up and down and move side to side while she took her time brushing her beautiful, long, lush, blonde hair.

Then, she stood and walked to her bed. I watched her put her nightgown on through the living room mirror. She walked to her vanity table to fix her hair and apply more lipstick. Then, she walked to her full length mirror to look at herself again. She was ready.

###

As soon as she entered the living room, as if she knew that I had seen her naked, she gave me a big, sexy smile and a naughty look. If she wasn't beautiful before, she was even more beautiful when she smiled. I loved her smile. I loved it when she smiled at me.

"Sorry it took me so long," she said.

She looked down at herself before she looked up at me.

"I hope you don't mind me not wearing a robe over my nightgown. I hate robes. They're too hot and so uncomfortable," she said.

She pulled her nightgown tighter while looking down at herself.

"You can't see through this, can you," she asked while knowing that I could see her as if she was naked?

I smiled and shook my head no.

"No, I can't see through your nightgown," I said lying.

I tried not to stare at all that I could see of her shapely body through her sheer nightgown.

"I didn't mind waiting. By how gorgeous you look, the wait was worth it to see you looking like this," I said. "Wow! You're so beautiful, Jane."

###

Trying not to catch me leering, I stared at all that I could see of her beautiful body through her nightgown.

"Moreover, a nightgown that is so sexy should never be covered with a robe," I said.

Again, careful for her not to catch me ogling at all that I could clearly see through her sheer nightgown. I could see the size and shape of her naked breasts, her areolas, and her erect nipples. I could see her patch of blonde, trimmed pubic hair through her nearly transparent nightgown. Not wanting to embarrass her or show her the pervert that I was, I looked away.

Barely a foot away, she stood in front of me while opening the wine. I wanted her naked breasts sway and bounce beneath her nightie. After staring at all that I could see of her naked breasts, I stared at all that I could see of her blonde, trimmed pussy. I stared at her pussy mound, her camel toe, and her pussy slit.

'I want to finger her pussy, rub her clit, and finger fuck her while licking her. I want to eat, Jane,' I thought.

Then, when leaning forward to open the wine, the top of her nightgown fell open with her. She gave me a great down nightgown view of not only her naked breasts and her erect nipples but also all the way down to the top of her blonde pussy. Then, when she turned to get two glasses from her shelf, I stared at her shapely, naked ass that I could clearly see through her nearly transparent nightie. Indeed, still in disbelief, for a 54-year-old woman, she still has an incredibly beautiful body.

With my mind in a whirl, I couldn't believe what the night held in store for me. I've never been as nervous as I was at that moment. I didn't want to do anything that would chase her off.

Still, I was unsure what I should do, or how to take the next steps. Nonetheless, not wanting to have any regrets for missed opportunities, this was it. This was really it. I've rarely had this kind of opportunity.

To be continued...