Driving Her to College

"I would go down on you," I said.

"What?" She asked.

We were sitting side by side on the couch in my den. Jane had just dropped her daughter off at college and was headed back up north. But she had one of those desk jockey, corporate jobs, where she could "work" remotely. So long as she monitored the emails, and made sure there were no fires, she didn't have to pop into the office until Wednesday at the earliest.

Sunday night had passed uneventfully. Jane had told me she would be delighted to stop in Raleigh on the way back from depositing 18 year-old Cheyenne at UNCW.

Now it was Monday. I bartend. Monday and Tuesday are my days off.

Jane had been divorced for almost two years from her second husband, Orlando. He had refused to come on the trip. He said he'd be making his own visit.

Jane figured he was avoiding both the actual work of moving Cheyenne in and the emotional work of confronting Jane as two adults supporting a mutual third person whom they both loved and cared about deeply.

Orlando was good looking with thick, black hair and blue eyes, but he had been a self-absorbed dick from the beginning. Jane had been a glutton for emotional abuse. She beat down the victim complex in her personal life by crushing it in her career.

I loved smoking pot on a Monday, after a leisurely lunch with a beautiful, high-powered, intelligent woman. The only way it could have been better was if she had some black heels, black stockings, and a pencil skirt. But she was working from "home", and we were old and dear friends. She had on gray sweatpants with Cheyenne's new school, the UNC Wilmington's Seahawk logo, a black tank-top with no visible bra, which I had already noted, and white footie socks that said Champion in a cursive red font across the toes.

I was sure she would have painted, manicured toes. She was delightfully proportionate, probably B-cups, flat abs with a tiny muffin top, she was in great shape. I had been thinking good things about her ass since we were sophomores in high school together. Her face was befitting of her name, pretty-girl next door Jane, with her new reverse-bob hair, bright toothy smile, big dimples, and sea green eyes with tiger-like flecks of yellow that always held a bit of mischief.

She was smiling now as she repeated, "What?" through the cloud of blue smoke.

"I would go down on you," I repeated.

And she smiled wider.

"Oh really?" she said casually handing me back the joint and reaching down to her waist to pull her clingy black t-shirt over her head.

At forty-eight, her boobs were practically perfect. She'd had them done. I didn't care. They were balanced, round, tasteful and sculpted, not huge. It was the twinkle in her eye that really turned me on.

Jane loved to surprise and she knew she'd turned the tables on me with her unexpected escalation. Her boobs were a thing Michelangelo might have carved in marble. Credit to her surgeon and her budget.

I took a deep drag. And handed the J back.

Then I leaned over to her, and without touching anything else, I kissed the flesh between the top of her grey sweats and her belly button.

She was sitting crisscross apple sauce.

I leaned back.

She was looking down, but I could tell her smile widened as her cheeks moved.

She had pulled her hair from the tie and it fell past her shoulders. Slumped forward, it mostly hid her boobs from view.

Was she being coy?

I lightly caressed the bottoms of her Champion socked feet as she pushed them towards me.

She reached out and set the J in the brass ashtray on the coffee table.

She shook her hair back. Revealing again her glorious tits, gentle waist, and the tiny trail of hair from her belly button heading toward the magic garden.

My imagination ran wild thinking of all the places below the waist my tongue might go.

She said, "Let's get these off," and lifted her symmetrical heart-shaped ass from the couch and started sliding her sweatpants towards her knees.

I moved back to give her room and a black stretchy athletic style thong came into view.

I am going to put my tongue in your ass, I thought to myself with delirious glee.

I leaned back into her body and put her left nipple in my mouth. I swirled my tongue. I kissed gently. I nibbled. She used her feet in concert to push her sweatpants the rest of the way off and into a pile on the floor.

Jane moaned and I smelled her rich musk in the room beneath the aroma of the weed.

After a few minutes of kissing those glorious breasts, I got the thong to her ankles with my free hand. And she wriggled out of it, leaving it on the pale rug in a crumpled black ball of fabric.

I left her on the couch and got down on my knees. I remembered the initial gauntlet thrown, a promise had been made.

I slowly kissed my way up from the ankle. Pausing at mid thigh to nuzzle and switch legs. I knew where she wanted me to go. She moaned again softly as moved up, but I surprised her and hopped just above her trimmed, but not bare pubes. Her vagina glistened, outer lips opened like a tulip. Its heady aroma already had my pole hard as fuck.

I skipped upward over the big prize and slowly kissed the gentle, benign trail of hair that led from her belly button to her pussy. I worked my way down.

The beautiful vagina that I had dreamed of was begging for it. No more teasing, I smiled to myself. I put my tongue in between her lips. At first, I didn't move it. Then a few gentle darts. Slowly, I spread her open with my fingers and moved my tongue up to the bud that I could see straining against its hood. I alternated kisses with tongue dabs, as if I were giving her dap with the tip of my tongue.

She moaned again much more deeply and pushed firmly down on the top of my head.

"Fuck, yes," Jane groaned.

She was so wet. I knew I was going to love being inside her velvet walls. I was pretty sure we were going bareback. We'd known each other forever. No worries there.

Would she let me nut inside, I wondered. God, eating her pussy was heavenly.

I let my tongue leave a gentle trail of saliva as I worked my way down below those lips and Jane lifted her hips. I stuck my tongue gently, but firmly into the rosebud of her asshole.

She gasped and strained toward me as licked deeply. I was so happy to be there. This was that hottie. And I was in that ass.

I took that moment to sneak one of the flatter couch throw pillows under her ass. Lifting her just a couple inches gave me much better access.

I moved back up from her asshole. Kissed her thighs again slowly. And went back in for more, she was breathing deeply and I was revelling in the thrusts that were beginning to move her whole body toward my face and head.

I folded back her labia and examined her clitoris. It was nubbin up. I briefly put a come hither finger inside her. Fuck was she super wet. The ooze made me crazy with lust. I put pressure on her insides working with that single finger. I loved feeling her slippery body from the inside.

I leaned in and licked again. A couple of quick strokes and that clit was peeking out and standing at attention. So I went to work with the up and down, up and down, and Jane bucked and moved her body like a current was running through it.

She said a very sincere voice that I hadn't heard from her before, "Fuck, yes. Fuck, fucking, yes. Fuck."

I kept the rhythm. I wanted her to say something gratifying like, "I knew this was a good decision." Or "Oh, it's been too long." But she had given up on words again and gone back to moans.

I did my best to bang out the kettle drum part in a symphony on her clit. You are the rhythm section I told myself. My brother is the musician in the family, but I must've been doing a pretty good job with the tongue and the drumming because she was gushing.

I love a gushing, juicy wet pussy... I took a deep breath and pulled my head back.

I maneuvered two fingers inside of her this time. They slid in easily and I put some one-two, one-two pressure on what I thought was the perfect spot on the inside wall of her vagina. She moaned and bucked her hips with enthusiasm. I was rock hard. She emitted deep groaning sounds and somehow got even wetter.

She yelled, "I am going to cum."

I wanted to be inside her. Deeply inside her.

But I wanted to make her cum, now. First.

Partially because I had no idea how long I would be able to last the first time in that juicy, wet love box that I had wanted to feel from the inside for so, so long.

I had quite a bit of confidence in my second go round.

I'd popped a couple pills, because like the ant and the rubber tree plant, I had high hopes. But they didn't change the fact that I was going to probably blow that first load in no more than five or six minutes.

I am certain I would've been rock hard anyways, but the prescription pills helped keep me going for a second round, no matter how much I nutted the first time.

Jane came with a series of "Yes, Yes, Yesses..." and then surprised me. Lifting her hips off the couch she sprayed in my face. Fuck was that hot. I knew she had cum super hard.

I told her, "Oh my god, woman. I love it. You fucking sprayed me. I'm marked."

I stood up.

She looked down her body and spread her labia with her right hand.

I didn't need instructions.

I got the vibe, as old friends who never fucked before, she didn't want to start with deep, intimate eye contact.

So as I moved toward her, I hooked her calves and ankles between my thumb and fingers and lifted them skyward. Her butt was still on that pillow. Her magic lips were open, legs at a 45 degree angle to the ceiling.

I stepped forward. I looked down. I wanted to watch myself slide in. But, thank god for old age, because instead of rushing it. I positioned the fat head of my cock between those soaking, slick lips and ran it between them for four or five strokes. It was a heavenly slip and slide, and I almost nutted right then and there.

I slowed down, ran up and down the lips of her glorious, slick vagina again.

But suddenly Jane said, "Do it." in a commanding voice that would have emptied a building if she'd yelled "Get out," and I was pushing it inside her velvet walls.

Her ass in the air, confident in her strength and general flexibility, I pushed all the way in. I went for the bottom on the first stroke.

My cock is thick and fat, about six inches long with a big vein on the underside.

She gasped, and moaned, "Fuck, yes."

I finally looked her in the eye for the first time since I went down on her.

She smiled, always the mischievous one-upper, and said, "Are you gonna cum inside?"

Instead of responding, I began stroking away. Pulling back almost to the edge of the lips, fat mushroom head barely trapped, and then plunging in as deep as I could go.

She moaned. She was oozing wet. It was magic.

I bit her calf to distract myself and hold back the nut that was coming like a freight train.

I kept thrusting away, but a little more slowly. Pulling back not quite as far with each glorious stroke. Jane reached her hand down and began rubbing her clit.

I wondered if she was going to squirt again. I hoped so. If she gave me enough, I'd probably be able to smell her lust in the apartment for days after she'd left.

I didn't have it in me for a position switch. I thought to myself, "If I pull out, I could spray all over her." The idea of it sounded pretty fucking hot to me. I love a good looking woman covered in cum.

The energy coursing through me was incredible. She kept moaning. She was frigging herself like a crazed pianist.

Suddenly on one of my thrusts, all her muscles contracted tightly and she almost ejected me. I pulled out, but thankfully didn't cum right there.

But she did!

Shouting, "Yes. Yes. I'm cumming." And spraying me with her lust juices, a stream hitting my waist, dribbling down from my belly button. Warm nut coating my shaft. Soaking my balls.

Her body rippled with aftershocks.

I positioned myself between her vaginal lips. I rubbed between them. It was so fucking hot. I think a couple of those exterior strokes were bound to have bounced off of her clit at the top of her lips.

Her body was still shaking lightly.

She grabbed my ass cheek firmly with one hand and spoke in a command, "Inside."

I could take orders like that. I pushed between those magical lips deeply inside. I felt the pressure of her lips against the throbbing vein in my cock.

It wasn't going to be long. She was too wet and too hot. It was a melting furnace in there. I was sure that I was already oozing pre-cum.

"Am I okay to cum inside," I asked.

"Totally," she moaned.

I felt a heady rush go through me. I felt like a god. It was so good in her pussy. Suddenly, I knew I wasn't going to pull out. I was going to push in.

Then, I was the one yelling, "Yes. Yes. Yes. Fucking, yes."

I finally let my weight rest on top of her. I had let go of her ankles. I was bottoming out. Jets of cum gushing through my member. I wanted to leave it all inside. It became a piledriver. And she took it all.

She got dirty, whispering forcefully, "Cum in me, baby. Yes. Yes. Yes. Push it all in."

Then, "I am going to suck you off until you are rock hard again."

I loved it.

Little did she know there was no way I was losing this hard-on.

I kept gently stroking, the last of my first nut still leaking out of me inside her.

I wasn't going to tell. It was early afternoon. I was going to let her blow me for all she was worth and then fuck the hell out of her again.

I had been waiting 30 years and through two husbands, and one beautiful eighteen year-old daughter.

Jane had to drive her to college, alone.

I guessed there would be plenty more reasons for her to come back.