The Art of Anal: Coda

The Art of Anal: Coda

In 2023, a death in the family occurred, necessitating my presence in Perth on the west coast of Australia. This was a city I left permanently twelve years earlier, and I was not pleased at returning. One of the reasons for my departure back then was that a beautiful woman broke my heart.

I was, however, still in touch with her friend, Leah, through Facebook and LinkedIn. She was a serial philanderer who ended up pregnant to some unknown male in her 50s, despite being married and with kids from that union. Several times a year, we would exchange birthday and Christmas messages. And chat generally about life. Our conversation never devolved into sexual banter, nor did we discuss our personal lives in detail.

When I announced the death of a family member on Facebook, Leah sent me a message of condolence, which was appreciated. We chatted generally about the circumstances of the death. I mentioned that I would be in Perth for a week in September for the funeral.

"Would you like to catch up for a drink?" Leah asked me.

"Sure, I could do with a friendly face," I replied, "It's going to be a rough time."

"Message me when you're in town," Leah said, giving me her mobile number.

Leah was one dirty slut with an an unquenchable sexual appetite. She introduced me to Paula who ended up cheating on me and hence breaking my heart. A friend and I indulged in numerous gang bangs with Leah and Paula. At one point, I was banging Leah's myopic daughter and her best friend. In the end, it became exhausting juggling so many commitments, so I chose (unwisely after the fact) Paula after Leah confessed her adulterous pregnancy.

One of Leah's other quirky sexual characteristics was a love of seedy outdoor locations. Our usual place was an abandoned commercial building a few streets away from the Rivervale Hotel, where we would meet for pre-sex drinks. This location was repurposed for other lovers over the years, but it always held a special memory with Leah.

When the funeral date was announced, I booked my flight and accommodation. Most of my attention was needed on Tuesday and Thursday of that particular week, giving me Monday evening, Wednesday and Friday to relax. I advised Leah of my availability, and she asked if I wanted to meet on Tuesday evening. I agreed and asked where she would like to meet.

"The Empire," She texted back, "You know the old Rivervale?"

"You really want to meet there?" I asked, incredulous at the suggestions because that was the hotel where Leah told me she was pregnant, which ended our physical relationship.

"It's still my local," She replied, "Plus, you'll like the upgrade."

"Okay, see you at 6 PM."

After all the depressing funeral stuff, I showered at my hotel in the CBD, and took a bus to Rivervale. The spring weather was cool and rainy; I rugged up and made my way to our old pub on the highway.

Being a Tuesday evening, patronage at 6 PM was light. Leah was running late, so I grabbed a drink and sat in the darkened corner, constantly checking my phone for messages. While the renovated interior décor was a welcome improvement, the hotel's signature characteristic was its beer garden, which was too cold to sit out there.

I was pretty nervous about the meet-up. Leah was 63 to my 48 years with a mid-teen son or daughter, plus grown kids from her marriage. Awkward was an adjective that could not describe my state of mind. I seriously considered bailing on this date, but stuck to my commitment.

Eventually, Leah walked in, and she looked fantastic. Dressed in a red dress, almost a gown. She had aged like a fine Shiraz, the drink purchased upon arrival. Upon being recognised, Leah swanned over to my table while I stood to embrace her. I was hugged to within an inch of my life, squeezed hard against her ample chest.

"Holy shit," Leah explained, beaming wildly, "You look amazing!"

"Minus the hair," I replied modestly.

"It's a better look for you," Leah said, holding my shoulders and beaming wildly.

"You're stunning," I said, "Look better now than all those years ago."

Leah retained her slim figure, but her chest appeared augmented. Her hair was a mix of blonde and brown. Yes, there were lines around the eyes and lips, but Leah looked amazing for a woman in her sixties. The wedding ring remained on the left hand, so she stayed with her husband, which pleased me.

"Thank you," Leah gushed, "It's great to see you after all this time."

"Likewise," I said, "Please, take a seat."

The smile could not be wiped from her beautiful face as we conversed. The chemistry remained potent. Leah was so fucking alluring, especially when her perfume wafted and aggravated my nostrils. I wondered who would make the first move.

After the small talk had run its course, our conversation meandered to the two elephants in the proverbial room. Firstly, Paula and then the unknown pregnancy that occurred in the late noughties. I knew they could not be avoided, but I hoped they would be done with sensitivity and delicacy. Despite the elapsed time, Paula still stung for her utter betrayal.

"I know you loved her," Leah said, "I'm sorry for what happened."

"Why are you sorry?" I asked, "I made my decision, mistaken though it turned out to be."

"What she did was wrong."

"I don't want to know anything about what happened afterwards," I said, still surprised at how much she stung me.

"Let's just say that things went downhill," Leah said, "We are not friends anymore. Partially because of what she did to you and how she treated me after I became pregnant."

"A real piece of work, yeah?"

"Nasty," Leah frowned, "You weren't much better!"

"For choosing her?" I asked.

"And dumping me."

There was some venom to Leah's retort despite the intervening years. Those wounds still smarted, it seemed, and I began to regret our meeting.

"I was heartbroken that you left me for Paula."

"But you got pregnant," I said incredulously, "And you were, and still are, married."

"I seriously considered leaving my husband for you," Leah said with genuine sadness, "That is until the pregnancy."

"And how did that work out?" Wincing about having to ask the obvious question.

"Really well all things considered," Leah said with some forced pride, "Annabelle is a beautiful addition to our family."

"How did your husband take the news?"

"I lied, of course," Leah snorted, "But he's a happily doting father to his second daughter, as are the other kids."

"I'm glad that all worked out for you."

I resisted the temptation to ask what Leah's first daughter was up to, whom I had accidentally met and had a parallel course of sexual fun. It was unclear if Leah actually knew, but she did not interfere or object.

"I suppose it worked out for me, but I lost a great lover in the process."

"Would you have given up your adulterous lifestyle for an exclusive arrangement with me?"

"In 2023, yes," Leah said with conviction, "In 2008, maybe."

"Had I known that, and what I know of Paula's subsequent behaviour," I responded, "I might have been happier."

"We'll never know for sure," Leah said, running a finger around her wine glass, "But we did what we did."

"Seems that way."

There was an uncomfortable silence between us before the conversation resumed, slowly moving away from the awkward topics neither of us wanted to dwell on.

"What happened to the fuck building across the road?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Completely renovated and occupied about a decade ago," Leah laughed.

"Where do you go now?"

"My extra-, arital activities are non-existent," Leah chuckled, "Life choices, you know."

"That's a shame," I lamented, "A discerning lover would have so much fun with you."

"You know," Leah teased, "I had one of those once, and he looked the other way."

"Perhaps," I said, carefully choosing my words, "Had the signals been there, we could have made different choices."

"I don't know how obvious I could have been."

"Erm," I sucked in my breath, ready to mention all the non-signals which I rapidly laid out.

"Okay, okay," Conceded Leah, "But Paula?"

"We both fucked her multiple times," I said, stung by the memory, "She left her husband. How could I know you would do that for me? Or what she did afterwards?"

"That was completely leftfield," Leah acknowledged, "And that shocked me to the point of disgust."

"Did you confront her?" I asked, starting to ask about the aftermath.

"I did," Leah grimaced, "But she threw my adulterous lifestyle back in my face, nastily."

"That was it?"

"Pretty much," Leah said, "Everything else came to me through mutual friends."

"I shouldn't know any more," I frowned, "The past should die."

"I can't imagine how much she hurt you," Leah empathised, "But it made you drive to the other side of the country."

"She broke me," I hissed, "And it still stings."

"Didn't have to be that way," Leah whispered.

"We all make mistakes," I said, tiring of the melancholy, "Would we have really worked?"

"We'll never know," Leah smiled, finishing her glass of wine, "Because we never gave it a try."

"I don't know if I could be with an adulterous rogue like you," I joked, referencing her serial philandering.

"They were fun," Leah said with a fixed and serious stare, "But only you truly satisfied my desire."

"In a piss-stained, dilapidated office block?" I chuckled.

"Especially there," Leah said, deadly serious, "And also in your spa."

"Alas, where I live now," I answered, "I have no spa!"

"Then you won't be able to satisfy me," Leah chuckled.

"I will put one in to get a crack at that booty of yours."

"You don't need to go to that expense to satisfy my behind."

"Nice," I said, as my cock inflated beneath my jeans, "When was the last time someone satisfied that juicy peach of yours?"

Leah thought briefly and replied that it was more than five years ago. What a waste, I imagined, to which Leah confirmed that the man did not have the magic touch.

"And what is the magic touch?" I asked, expecting some more ego-stroking.

"Your face, your personality," Replied Leah, leaning in closer so that our lips were practically touching, "Your cock and your technique. Your heart and kindness."

Leah kissed me briefly before pulling away and resuming her majestic demeanour. She stood up and went to the bar for two drinks.

"To be honest," Leah began upon her return, "I haven't had much anal sex since you left."

"Why is that?" I asked the apparent ego-stroking question.

"Because you weren't around," Leah said, "The other times were disappointing curiosity mistakes."

"If it's any consolation," I said, "It's the same for me."

Leah had many amazing sexual skills that only older women possess. Confidence is the major one, which explains why she scored with guys in supermarkets and food courts on any given day. She would do them in public toilets and cars at the drop of a hat. Only I was lucky enough to bang her arse, which I did thoroughly, but not often enough.

Sitting next to me, Leah snuggled into my arm and commented on how it was like old times. I told her only temporarily, reminding her of my brief visit. This encounter felt like old times, except that Leah had improved with age, and I genuinely desired her.

Patrons came and went, and none noticed us. The atmosphere was intimate as if we had never left each other. As I combed her hair, Leah purred with pleasure at suddenly having an emotional support blanket. I lamented the fact that I was departing in three days.

"I want you," Leah said, reaching up to kiss me, "Now."

"Where?" I asked, returning the kiss, "Our usual seedy place has gone."

"I don't know," Leah said, thinking.

"My hotel?" I asked, "Or your car?"

"Not your hotel," Leah replied, "As I'll want to stay the night, which I can't do tonight."

"Then where?" I asked, realising the implication of Leah's last statement, "Make it as seedy as you can."

"Not sure," Leah replied, "Even the footy oval can't be used."

"Too cold for that place tonight." I observed, "Any other suggestions?"

"Okay, I know," Leah said, suddenly coming up with inspiration, "There's a park on the north side of the river, Clarkson Reserve, I think it's called."

"You've been there before?"

"Once," Leah affirmed, "Ages ago, but it was nice and quiet."

"Where are we doing it?" I asked, "Your car or a toilet block?"

"First one and then the other?" She snickered, "Whatever you want."

"Shall we go?" I asked after draining my pint glass.

It took around fifteen minutes to get to Clarkson Reserve. It was indeed empty, and no one was around. The night was black, and there was lightning to the west, but no rain just yet though you could smell it in the air. After exchanging several passionate kisses, Leah asked me to fuck her like I had not busted a nut in 15 years.

"I want you to rail me so hard that I can't walk for days!" She implored as she unbuttoned my jeans, "It's been a while, but you know the drill."

Leah was all over my cock, devouring it with an intensity that I had not felt in years. She deepthroated my groaning length and licked my balls until they were dripping saliva on her car seat.

Soon, it was my turn to return the favour. However, we needed more space to expand and debouched to the toilet block. Once inside, with only the light from our phones, we got down and dirty. As expected, Leah was dripping wet and completely bare. Her body, for her age, looked terrific. She sat on the steel toilet and spread her legs so that my tongue would do the magic she anticipated.

In no time at all, Leah came, spraying my face with hot female jism. She tasted amazing as I drank down all that she expelled. My face dripped with cunt juice while Leah stood and walked to the basin before grabbing the porcelain and leaning over, a signal that she demanded a rim job.

Who was I to disappoint? I spread her 63-year-old cheeks and dove in. Rasping my tongue across that musky pucker was heaven, especially how Leah responded to such attention. Tendrils of cunt juice dribbled down her thighs as I punched the inside of her anus.

"Fist me," Leah begged, "Then you can fuck my arse."

Fisting is a very personal sex act that only we did together. If I did it correctly, Leah would squirt all over the place, covering me in filthy squirt. It took time to work the fist into Leah's pussy, but she was so wet and loose from the latest birth that fisting seemed easier this time.

"Oh, fuck!" Leah hissed as my wrist was unexpectedly swallowed by her open cunt, "Fist me hard."

I did not hold back and worked my hand inside Leah's swampy cunt, causing numerous explosions of piss-tasting cunt cream while thumbing her expectant bung. Swallowing as much pussy eruption as I could while it continually leaked, my cock was raging hard. It needed satisfaction. Luckily, Leah retained her innate understanding of men's desires.

"Fuck my arse," She demanded.

Again, not one to disappoint an audience, I spat on my cock and applied some saliva to Leah's bottom. I pressed my raging head against her most intimate hole and pressed. Leah accepted me readily but with a long, drawn-out growl.

"Fuck, that's what I've been waiting for," Crowed Leah, "Been dreaming of this moment for years."

"I'll take it slowly," I said, gently rocking my hips against hers.

"Fuck that," Leah spat, "Use that arsehole!"

Soon, I was fucking Leah's O-ring like it was her pussy, which I knew she loved. Leah screamed uncontrollably, and I wondered whether anyone could hear her moans of ecstasy as I banged her shitter with little regard or gentleness.

Occasionally, I withdrew my cock to take snapshots of her gape, but each time I did so, Leah demanded I slam her. She grabbed my shirt and pulled me in with increasing intensity. Leah was about to come, and so was I. Unfortunately, I came first, shooting darts of sperm deep inside Leah's bowels, to which she shrieked in orgasmic bliss.

"Keep fucking me," Leah begged, "I'm almost there."

How I kept my rapidly deflating cock fucking her distended arsehole was, and remains, a mystery to me, but somehow I managed it, even though rivers of sperm were spilling out of her warn bung. Eventually, Leah came with an underwhelming but satisfied whimper. Turning around, she took my shitty stick in her mouth and cleaned me up with practised precision.

"Fuck me!" I exhaled when Leah rose to her feet, "You'll give me a heart attack."

"Thanks," She replied, "That's not what I want to do."

"My balls are completely drained," I sighed.

"It's spilling out of my arse," Leah chuckled, grabbing some toilet roll to wipe her broken bung, "That's a lot of come."

"And you're still walking," I observed.

"My legs are so wobbly," Leah giggled, "It's going to be a challenge driving home like this."

After cleaning up, Leah drove me to my hotel. We kissed passionately in the car, and I implored her to join me in my room, but she refused.

"Can we meet up tomorrow or Thursday?" Leah asked me after refusing to blow my cock in her car.

"I'd love to," I said, "Call or text me tomorrow with what you want to do."

"Will do," Leah said, leaning over to kiss me before unceremoniously dumping out of her car and immediately departing.

I wandered back to my hotel room and was a sad yet happy man. Sad because the encounter would be fleeting, but happy because Leah had not lost any of her talent and skill. Plus, she was stunningly beautiful and an asset to any discerning man. The next couple of days promised amazing action and companionship under challenging times.