Carol's Convention - Scottsdale

Carol's Convention - Scottsdale

The late-afternoon sun cast golden slivers across the pool deck, glinting off sunglasses, icy drinks, and bronzed skin. Carol leaned back on a lounge chair, one leg bent casually, the other stretched just so, angled to elongate her calves and draw attention to her thighs. She was well aware of the stares. But she wasn't doing it for them. Not entirely.

Her bikini was bold, a barely there, deep-cut blue number that clung to her curves as if it had been painted on. The top framed her full, soft breasts, D-cups that had never needed enhancement. The bottom, a minimalist triangle of fabric, seemed more suggestive than swimwear. At 62, she was confident, self-assured, and, in her own eyes, more woman now than she had been in her thirties. She hadn't always been this way.

It took time. And loss.

Five years had passed since she lost Mark. At first, she was consumed by grief. But time had not only healed, it had sharpened. Carol had reclaimed herself. She'd rebuilt her real estate agency from the ground up and learned to navigate the world as a solo act. Conventions like this one, once lonely affairs, had become a playground of possibility. And today, she was in the mood to play.

A shadow crossed her legs.

"Excuse me," came a smooth, masculine voice. "I thought I recognized you from this morning. You asked that great question about investor leverage."

Carol pulled off her sunglasses, letting her eyes adjust. He was tall, easily over six feet, with dark, slightly wavy hair, a jaw that could cut glass, and the confident stance of a man accustomed to being listened to. His slate-blue polo shirt stretched across a lean, athletic frame.

"Brad, right?" she said, tilting her head. "You were sitting two rows behind me."

He smiled. "Guilty. I was more distracted by your voice than the question."

Carol arched an eyebrow. "Is that your way of saying you weren't paying attention?"

Brad chuckled and settled into the lounge chair beside her, his legs spread slightly, relaxed, unbothered by the rules of polite distance. "I'm a multi-tasker. I can be fascinated and aroused at the same time."

Oh, he's bold, she thought, lips curving.

"Good to know," she said, taking a slow sip of her spritzer, letting the straw linger between her lips a beat too long. "So, Brad... what brings you to Scottsdale?"

He shrugged. "Networking. Market research. Sun. Same as everyone else, I imagine." He gave her a long look, one that started at her painted toes and traveled unhurried up her legs, hips, stomach, and finally landed on her cleavage. "Although the view just got significantly better."

Carol leaned toward him slightly, letting her breasts shift deliciously under the bikini top. "You're not very subtle, are you?"

"I've found that subtlety is often wasted in this industry."

"Mm," she mused, watching the light glint off his short stubble. "Or maybe you just like to see how far you can push things before someone pushes back."

"Only with women who look like they can handle it."

His voice was low now; flirtation dipped in challenge.

Carol's nipples stiffened against the fabric, and not from the breeze.

She let the moment stretch, enjoying the tension. "What do you imagine I'm like, Brad?"

He paused, eyes lingering on her lips. "Confident. Intelligent. Not afraid to take control when the situation calls for it. But also... maybe a little dangerous when you're bored."

A delicious thrum echoed between her thighs. He was good. And he hadn't once tried to be apologetic for his attraction. That alone had her body humming.

"Well," she said, rising slowly to her feet, watching his eyes track the sway of her hips and the barely-contained swell of her ass. "You're not wrong."

Carol turned slightly, offering him a perfect profile view.

"I'm in room 1214," she said, slipping on her sunglasses. "Give me ten minutes."

Brad sat up straighter, brows raised. "Ten minutes?"

She walked a few steps, then looked back over her shoulder.

"I want to freshen up. When you knock, I want to open the door knowing I look exactly how I want you to see me."

He grinned, but it was tinged with hunger now. "Understood."

Carol's heels clicked as she disappeared into the hotel, her hips swaying with every purposeful step. In the elevator, her heart pounded--not from nerves, but from anticipation.

This wasn't about love. Or even companionship. It was about remembering she was still capable of more, more than just managing agents, returning calls, or smiling through grief.

Tonight, she would let herself be desired and worshiped, even.

And maybe, just maybe, she'd take what she wanted for a change.

...

Carol adjusted the sheer lace of her lingerie, one final glance in the mirror before the knock came, exactly ten minutes later. Her heart beat faster.

She opened the door slowly.

Brad's eyes widened, pupils darkening like storm clouds over water. "Wow..."

She was draped in deep golden lace, an almost translucent bodysuit that hugged every curve. Her breasts, full and round, pushed forward proudly against the sheer fabric. Her nipples, already hard with anticipation, strained visibly through the lace. The cut of the garment showed the soft, tempting curve of her hips, her legs long and bare beneath. Her makeup was soft and sultry; her hair was loose and wild. She looked like temptation itself.

Brad stood there, silent, drinking her in. His shirt clung to his chest, but it was the unmistakable bulge in his shorts that spoke the loudest. Thick. Prominent. Alive.

"You're even more beautiful than I imagined," he said.

Carol smirked, then stepped back, holding the door open. "Come in. Quickly."

He did, and the door hadn't even clicked shut before their mouths crashed together, hungry and full of need. Brad's hands tangled in her hair, lips fierce against hers. She moaned into him, grabbing his ass through his shorts, feeling how ready, how hard, he already was. She was soaked.

They stumbled back toward the bed, hands tugging, clawing, gripping fabric and skin. Carol's fingers pushed his shirt up and off, while Brad's hands fumbled down her hips, squeezing, lifting, owning her curves. Her body burned for him.

"Goddamn, you're sexy," he growled into her neck as they reached the bed.

Carol turned and crawled forward on all fours, presenting herself at the edge of the mattress, her breasts swinging seductively with every movement. She positioned herself perfectly, facing the mirrored wall across from the bed. She wanted to see.

Brad stripped quickly, revealing the thick, proud curve of his cock, at least seven inches and beautifully round. Her mouth watered just looking at him.

He stepped behind her, rubbing the tip against her slick entrance, then pushed in slowly, deliberately, inch by inch until he was fully buried in her.

"Ohhh fuuuuck," Carol groaned, arching her back, her mouth hanging open as she watched herself in the mirror. Her eyes locked on Brad's face, his jaw clenched, watching himself sink into her like he couldn't believe it was real.

They found a rhythm fast. Urgent. Hot. He held her hips and began driving into her, deep, smooth strokes that made her moan with every thrust. Her body rocked in perfect sync, her ass bouncing back against him, swallowing him whole.

One of Brad's hands slid forward, cupping a swaying breast. He squeezed it, thumb flicking the stiff nipple while the other hand wrapped her thick hair around his wrist for control. They were watching themselves now, two beautiful animals, lost in each other, fucking like it was life or death.

"Oh god, Brad... Brad, I'm coming," she cried, her voice a rough gasp, breaking with pleasure.

He groaned, low and guttural, then drove into her harder, faster. "Come for me, baby."

She shook, body trembling as her orgasm hit, wave after crashing wave surging through her, hips quaking beneath him.

He wasn't far behind.

With a strangled grunt, Brad buried himself in her one final time, holding deep as he pulsed inside her, his own orgasm explosive and raw.

Their bodies froze, locked in place, hearts pounding like war drums. Slowly, he pulled out, both of them gasping, dazed by the force of it.

Carol collapsed sideways on the bed, Brad joining her. They lay tangled together, her head on his chest, his hand stroking her thigh, skin glistening. Chests rising and falling. Quiet, save for the hum of the A/C and their steady breaths.

After a long silence, Carol turned to him with a soft smile. Her voice was husky but steady.

"I would like to buy you dinner," she said, brushing her lips across his jaw. "One hour. Hotel restaurant. Get us a table in the back... dark corner."

Brad smiled, still breathless. "I'll be there. Don't wear too much."

Carol grinned, eyes twinkling. "That's the plan."

...

The back corner of the hotel restaurant was dimly lit, tucked away from the polite chatter of the early diners. A single candle flickered between two place settings, casting golden light across the crisp white tablecloth. Brad sat alone, dressed in khakis and a pale blue collared shirt, sipping his bourbon and checking the time.

He wasn't nervous, just wound tight with anticipation.

And then he saw her.

Carol emerged from the bar like a vision, silver hair loose, cascading over her shoulders in waves that shimmered with each step. The fitted maroon top clung to her breasts, no bra beneath to obscure their full, tantalizing shape or the hardened nipples pressing gently through the fabric. The deep neckline plunged almost to her navel. Her black skirt flowed to just below the knees, but with each step it parted slightly, revealing toned calves and the whisper of black heels.

She moved like she knew every eye was on her, because they were.

Brad rose as she approached, jaw tightening, cock twitching beneath the table.

"You're going to get us kicked out," he murmured, leaning close as she slid into the seat.

Carol smirked. "That's not a no."

Their knees touched under the table. The waitress appeared, but Carol didn't even glance at the menu. "Just a couple of small appetizers," she said. "We're saving room for dessert."

When the waitress left, they began with small talk, real estate markets, interest rates, and convention gossip. Brad played along, but his eyes never left the swell of Carol's breasts or the way she licked a drop of wine from the corner of her mouth.

Then, casually, he asked, "So... is this something you do often? Convention play?"

Carol tilted her head, amused. "Define often."

"I'm just wondering," he said, voice dropping, "if I'm the first... or just the next."

Her smile widened. "Would it turn you on if I said I'd done it before?"

"Very much."

She leaned in, her voice low and warm like honey. "Then you'll love this."

"There was a man at a London conference--Jonathan. Tall, British, elegant. Black. Beautiful. And when I say large, I mean it. I gasped the moment I saw him, thick, long, heavy between his legs. I wanted to worship him."

Brad's eyes darkened.

"I took him in my mouth, slowly licking from the tip down to the base, savoring the weight of him. He groaned with every pass of my tongue. When I finally took him deep... he said I had the best mouth he'd ever had." Her fingertips brushed Brad's thigh.

"Then he pushed me onto the bed, legs open wide, and slid into me. I stretched around him like I never had before. He made me come hard, twice, just from that slow, deep thrusting."

Her fingers now lightly rubbed Brad's erection through his pants.

"The next was a husband-and-wife team, Diane and Jim. Diane had these soft hands and a devilish smile. We were tipsy, playful. She undressed me slowly... played with my breasts, sucked my nipples while Jim watched, stroking himself in the corner. Then I undressed her."

Carol traced lazy circles on Brad's thigh.

"I went down on her first. Her taste. Her moans. We did a full 69 on the hotel bed, fingers everywhere. Jim could barely contain himself. When I finally slid down onto him, reverse cowgirl, Diane was behind me, rubbing my clit, whispering filthy things in my ear until I shattered."

Brad's hand slipped beneath the tablecloth and found Carol's knee.

"And the most recent... two interns. David and Colin. Late twenties. Fit, cocky, and sweetly dumb. I picked them up at the pool, low-cut monokini, flirtatious compliments. They followed me like puppies."

Her voice was pure silk now.

"They undressed me in my room. Hands all over my tits, their mouths everywhere. I took David in my mouth while Colin licked me. Then we switched, David entered me while I sucked off Colin: their stamina, God. I rode David front-facing while Colin stood behind me. When I came, I screamed."

Brad's hand was now between her thighs.

She didn't stop him.

"I finished them both off with my hands... they came all over my chest. I loved it."

Brad's fingers brushed the damp fabric of her panties, soaked.

She reached over and boldly cupped him through his pants, massaging slowly. He was rock hard.

They locked eyes.

"This table has officially become my favorite," he whispered.

"We should probably leave," Carol said, her voice breathy. "Unless you want to find out what I'm like on top right here."

He signaled for the check.

They were on their feet in seconds, his hand guiding her lower back as they exited, fast but composed. From a distance, they could've passed for any couple heading out for a quiet evening.

But the fire between them was unmistakable.

...

The hotel room was aglow with flickering candlelight, soft, golden warmth dancing across the walls. The air hummed with quiet anticipation. Carol moved slowly, confidently, her heels clicking lightly on the hardwood floor as she led Brad by the hand toward the bed.

No words were spoken. None were needed.

The fire between them had been smoldering all day; now it would burn slowly, beautifully, completely.

She turned and faced him, both standing at the foot of the bed. With a graceful motion, she reached for his belt, undid it with practiced ease, and slid his pants down to his ankles. Then his underwear, revealing his hard, thick cock, already raging with need, pulsing in time with his breath.

Carol remained clothed for now, her maroon top still hugging her curves, her breasts straining gloriously against the fabric. Deep cleavage, nipples visible, stiff, aching. She knelt before him, eyes locked to his as she leaned in, her silver hair falling over one shoulder.

"I've wanted to taste you since the moment you walked up to that pool chair," she whispered.

She flicked the tip of his cock with her tongue, slow, playful. Then again. Brad groaned, eyes fluttering.

Carol began gliding her tongue up and down the thick shaft, her fingers wrapped lightly around the base. Each upward stroke ended with a teasing swirl at the tip. She looked up at him with wicked confidence, her tongue working slowly, deliberately, seductively.

Then she opened her mouth wider and took him in. Deep.

All of him.

Over and over.

Brad's knees nearly buckled.

Her mouth was hot and wet, velvet wrapping around steel, moving with an experienced rhythm. His cock pulsed larger with every stroke.

And then, Carol's finger gently circled his rear. Not pushing, just coaxing.

Brad gasped. "Carol..."

She continued, unfazed, swirling her tongue at his crown while gently teasing his entrance. Then, when she felt him relax, she slid her finger in just an inch, then a little deeper, her other hand cradling his balls.

His moan was raw. Desperate.

She began rimming him now, licking around his ass in gentle, wet strokes while her finger worked deeper, and her mouth returned to his cock, bobbing slowly, lovingly.

"Carol... oh god... I'm gonna cum..."

She sucked harder.

Brad's body jerked. He tried to pull away, but she gripped him, took him deeper.

He exploded in her mouth, hot, thick spurts one after another, as she swallowed most and let some drip slowly onto her breasts. Her fingers dipped into the creamy mess, then slipped between Brad's lips.

They kissed, tongues meeting again, sharing the taste of his release.

Carol smiled against his mouth. "Now it's my turn."

Brad, still panting, gathered himself and stood tall.

He began undressing her slowly, first the flowing black skirt, then the damp maroon thong. He left her top for last, gently sliding the sleeves off her shoulders and watching her breasts bounce free into the candlelight.

He cupped them, kissed them, flicked his tongue across each nipple until they peaked.

Then he laid her back on the edge of the bed, raised her legs, and began to feast.

His tongue moved softly over her folds, dipping inside, then upward, circling her clit, then back again. Alternating long licks with sudden suckling. Carol moaned loudly, hips beginning to lift off the bed.

Brad flicked faster, then slower, then kissed her clit like it was her mouth, slow, sensual, deep.

Carol's first orgasm shuddered through her hips, followed quickly by a second, her cries echoing in the candlelit room.

But Brad wasn't done.

Two fingers slid inside her, angled expertly upward, finding her G-spot. He applied the perfect pressure, slowly, rhythmically, until her breath caught in her throat.

"Brad... oh my god... Brad--"

He kept going. Building. Deeper. Faster.

And then, Carol's body arched.

She screamed.

She squirted, an eruption of wet heat gushing across the sheets as she cried out, her whole body shaking.

Brad kissed her thighs, smiling, wet with her release.

But Carol wasn't the only one recharged.

Brad was hard again, lying back on the bed, his cock standing straight up, glistening.

Carol climbed on, straddling him.

She held his shaft in one hand, positioned herself, then lowered down slowly, inch by delicious inch, until he was buried fully inside her.

They gasped together.

Eyes locked.

She began to grind. Forward and back. In and out. Riding him slowly, deliberately, every movement sending fire up her spine.

Carol cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples as Brad watched, entranced.

Then his hand covered hers, and they squeezed together.

Their other hands met between her legs, finding her clit, rubbing in time with her rhythm. The pressure, the heat, the connection, it all blended.

"I'm so close," Brad breathed.

"Me too," she whispered.

They moved together faster, deeper, lips parted, moaning, fingers working her clit and massaging her breasts.

Then, it hit.

A tidal wave of pleasure surged between them as they came together, hard, full-body, eyes locked, breath stolen, souls lit.

They collapsed together, trembling, tangled.

The room glowed golden still. Time had melted.

Brad nuzzled her neck. Carol smiled into his hair.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For making me feel... desired. Young."

Brad smiled, his arms wrapping around her waist. "You're unforgettable."

Carol chuckled softly. "We'll have to make sure we run into each other again... another convention."

She kissed his cheek.

"And yes," she added, "you just gave me another story to tell."