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On a recent shopping trip to Montreal I decided to treat myself to a gourmet dinner in the excellent restaurant, located in my hotel. I quickly threw my packages in my room and did a quick primp in the mirror. My jeans were pretty tight, which accentuated my hips and thighs. Those daily aerobic sessions were paying off and although my bust had sagged from a 36C to a 38D I still looked pretty presentable. I brushed my short reddish brown hair and touched up my makeup.
I had no intent of meeting anyone, but feel very flattered when I become the centre of someone’s attention. I made my way downstairs and into the restaurant and immediately the Maitre d’ walked in my direction and smiled. “Table for one, please,” I said, returning the pleasant smile.
He explained they had just opened and asked if I could have a complimentary drink at the bar while my table was being prepared. I accepted his kindness and ordered a vodka martini (by far my favourite drink).
The restaurant and bar were void of patrons except for one woman sitting a few stools down from me. She appeared respectful, but was nursing her drink in a methodical manner. We made eye contact and I offered a slight smile, which she returned.
I was enjoying my drink (and the constant glances from the bartender) when I noticed the other woman was sobbing slightly. My maternal instincts kicked in and I asked if she was alright. She mustered up an apology and I told her that sometimes it was better to let it out. She attempted a smile and nodded. I asked her if she wanted to talk and she offered a nod. I picked up my drink and moved a few seats down to be next to her.
It only took a question on my part, and another two drinks, and she blurred out her recent problems, stopping only to sob and wipe her tears. It seems her husband had cheated on her and she stormed out of the house making her way to the hotel where by chance I was staying. All she wanted to do was forget for a few hours and I explained that I would be honoured if she joined me for dinner.
Reluctantly she agreed and a few minutes later the Maitre d’ showed us to a table. M was French Canadian and lived on the outskirts of Montreal. She was in her late forties and quite attractive. Her long black hair (probably from a bottle) hung slightly disheveled but had signs of being recently styled by an expert. Her husband, the bastard, as she called him, was a lawyer who travelled a great deal. They were to go out that evening and while she was dressing and preparing to shower she overheard him on his mobile, talking to his assistant.
“He must have thought I was in the shower because their conversation was anything other than business.” I sympathized and having been married for 36 years I understood how the sparks had gone out a long time ago. I was certain it was more of a bruise to her ego than the actual ‘affair’, but I kept this thought to myself.
She relaxed during dinner, mostly a result of the cocktails and the near empty bottle of Shiraz. We actually joked a bit and she began to feel more comfortable. I asked her what her plans were and she said she had none. I suggested she stay the night, but she had little money and her credit cards were at home. She decided to return to her house and I suggested that might not be the best idea.
“You will want to let the prick stew for a while,” I said and she smiled. “You are more than welcome to stay in my room. I have two queen size beds so it would not make a difference.” I was surprised at what I had offered, as I normally would not invite a stranger under my roof, but she seemed so sad and in need of a friend.
At first she declined, not wanting to ‘put me out’ but I explained she wouldn’t be. We finished dinner güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri and the wine and made our way to the twenty-third floor. I apologized for the mess and quickly picked up my packages. We discussed arrangements and I explained that I normally sleep nude so I had nothing to cover myself, leave alone offer her. I said I could go to the bathroom, ready myself, come out wrapped in towel and jump into my bed. Then she could do the same.
We chuckled slightly at our high school antics, but agreed it made sense. I was only in the bathroom a few minutes and came out wearing my towel. I positioned my folded clothes on the dresser and waited until M had made her way into the bathroom. I hung my jeans, blouse and jacket in the closet and placed my bra and panties in my suitcase. I jumped into bed leaving the towel on the floor. A moment later M came out.
“Are you sure this is not an inconvenience?” she asked, in her French accent.
“Of course not,” I said, smiling as I spoke. I watched her walk past the foot of my bed. Her legs were slender and shapely and her breasts heaved high above the towel. She seemed a little more at ease than earlier, but after she was in bed and we had said ‘good night’ I heard her softly sob in the darkness of our room.
I waited to see if her sadness would be suppressed, but there seemed to be no end in sight. “Are you all right?” I asked. She softly whispered a muffled ‘yes’ and I let it go. I fell asleep and woke several hours later to a strange sound, coming from the hallway. I turned on the light, as I had forgotten M was in the room and was startled by her soft scream when she saw me in the lit room. I felt stupid and immediately turned off the light, but the vision of her elegant body, totally nude, stood out in my mind. I noticed her breasts, larger than most were about the same size as mine and her vaginal area had a tiny strip of pubic hair. I have been with women several times over my life, but mostly only my best friend, strictly for mutual gratification. There must be something twisted in my genes, for the sight of M’s naked body stirred feelings in my groin.
I immediately apologized and told her how sorry I was, but she told me not to worry. We were now both wide awake and I asked her if she wanted to talk. She began to open up; telling me about herself, but very quickly the conversation reverted back to her cheating husband. I heard her sob again and was overcome with a wave of sorrow. Without thinking it through I stepped out of my bed and in the darkness fumbled to her bed. I sat on the edge and stroked her hair.
“It will pass,” I said. “It may be tough now, but you will get through this.” She moved her head closer to me and I ran my hand along her cheek. I moved a little lower on the bed so I could put my arm behind her head. “Let me hold you,” I said, softly. She made no effort to resist and my motherly instincts wanted to comfort her pain.
I moved even lower, but as I was lying on top of the blanket and was not wearing anything I was quite cold, on the verge of shivering. I said nothing, as her grief was much greater than mine. I could smell her hair, which was now almost against mine, as our faces were near each other. The next move, on my part, shocked me, probably more than her, but my head moved slightly and somewhat involuntarily I found my lips softly touching hers.
I could feel her tense under my touch, but I was surprised that she did not pull away. I pressed harder and after a moment gently pushed my tongue against her lips. To my surprise she parted them and my tongue found its way inside. We kissed passionately, with me taking the lead, but she made no effort to stop my unprecedented advances.
“You güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri seem cold,” She said, softly. I nodded. “Come under the covers,” She whispered. I did and I felt her nakedness against mine. Again I kissed her lips, this time wrapping my arm around her back and pushing her closer to me. A moment later I felt her breasts against mine and we were laying in such a way that our nipples touched each other’s.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” She whispered, protesting.
“I know,” I replied. “This seems so wrong, but feels so comfortable.” Although happily married (if there is such a thing) I do enjoy the intimate company of women. I put my arm around M and brought her tight against me. I moved my face to within a centimetre of hers and kissed her passionately for what seemed a loving eternity.
My hand moved lower, into her large, soft breasts and I began to teasingly squeeze them. She moaned under my touch and I slowly moved my head lower, kissing her neck, her chest and eventually making my way to her soft breasts. I kissed passionately as M’s moans grew louder and her breathing became more rapid. At last my lips came in contact with her perk nipple, hardened by the sensations she was feeling. I nibbled her tenderly but with determination and I knew the small jabs of pain were exciting her more with each bite.
My mouth moved to make love to her other breast and it too received the same amount of deliberate attention. I began to slide lower and I heard her whisper. “Let me touch yours.”
“Just lay back and enjoy. You deserve this,” I replied softly. I continued to move lower, kissing her belly and teasing her navel. My lips brushed against the short, trimmed hair of her vaginal area and I could feel a wetness form between my legs. I slowly moved lower, licking every centimetre of her goodness and when my tongue reached the small love button of her womanhood I heard M cry with pleasure.
My tongue darted around her clitoris and my lips sucked on the small button, which was growing hard to my touch. I moved in tight and buried my head in the triangle of her love. My tongue found her opening and entered as a snake would slither into a hole. She moaned and squirmed and I knew she was close. Making much needed love to her pussy was driving her mad with desire at the same time creating a need for satisfaction within me as well. I licked her hard and felt her hands push against my hair as she begged me to eat her deeply. I did and tasted her sweetness as the passion was building inside her.
M was now lying on her back and the sheets had been pushed aside. Neither of us was cold and all I could think about was satisfying the craving needs of this woman who had been wronged so badly by her husband. She opened her legs and pushed my head harder against her love hole. I reached my hands above my head until each one felt her breast and I squeezed hard and pinched her nipples without caring if she could endure. I felt her legs shiver slightly and her tummy began to tense. A moment later she tightened all her muscles and her body began to shake violently. She screamed loudly and suddenly a steam of love juice squirted from her opening directly into my mouth. It did not stop and I was beginning to gag as I hungrily drank all the extract she had to offer. Had my mouth not been there she would have squirted her juice 2 meters in the air.
She calmed and I continued to swallow and hungrily lick her cum. After she was complete I stopped and moved back to look into her eyes. She was smiling and seemed content. Without saying a word I planted a kiss other lips. She immediately parted them and flinched when she tasted her own juice inside my. mouth. I let güvenilir bahis şirketleri it drip into hers and we swirled the mixture with our tongues. I was so hot that I thought I would explode. I whispered in her ear. “Eat me.”
“I have never been with a woman,” she softly replied with reluctance in her voice.
“I understand,” I said disappointingly.
“I want to try, though. Will you forgive my inexperience?” I smiled at her reassuringly and we kissed again. Slowly the pleasure was re building within her. We turned and turned until we found ourselves in a sixty-nine position, lying on our sides. My head was resting on her thigh while the other softly pressed down on it. She was in the same position and I felt a tingle between my legs as she slowly began to lick my wanting hole.
It came naturally, as I knew it would. She ate me with passion at the same time fueling her own desire. “Am I doing it right?” she whispered.
“It is so good. There is nothing you can possibly do wrong.” I felt her dive back in and I asserted myself to the same task. I moved my hand and pushed my middle finger into her bum hole. She squirmed and I commanded her to do the same to me. She did and I thought I was going to pass out from ecstasy. “Harder!” I yelled and I felt her finger push deeper into my taboo space.
I have had men there several times, but nothing compares to the tender yet loving touch of a woman. “Finger me!” I commanded and clumsily she moved her thumb into my pussy.
“Like that?” she asked.
I was overcome with passionate and could only think of reaching my own climax. “Yes!” I yelled. “Harder, please!” My breath was nothing more than short gasps. “Finger my cunt!” I commanded. She obeyed and rapidly moved her thumb and forefinger in unison in both my holes. “Make me cum!” I was crying as I spoke. The muscles in my legs were tightening and I knew I was close. My stomach muscles stiffened and I stretched my legs straight out. I was overcome with passion as my climax riveted through me. M did not stop fingering me and I too squirted my love juice in a strong stream directly onto her face. I heard her moan and suddenly realized that she too was about to orgasm. We came together and our bodies dropped from exhaustion at the same time. I normally masturbate three or four times a day, but never have I reached an orgasm like the one at the touch of M.
We fell asleep cradled in each other’s arms and awoke the next morning in the same position. I knew immediately that M felt guilty and I kissed her reassuringly, straightaway moving my hand to her honey pot. I rubbed her gently, ignoring her protests and told her to masturbate me as well.
We lay on our backs with one leg overlapping. We each had a hand on the others vagina and were simultaneously pleasuring each other. I looked into her eyes and kissed her lips. The passion was building and I moved my free hand onto her breast, squeezing hard. She did the same and we soon reached orgasms together. Although not as good as the night before, we were now satisfying each other’s craving needs unlike last night when we were making love. We rested and talked and M said she had to go and sort her life.
We showered together and she dressed. She walked back to the bed, where I lay relaxed and exhausted. She leaned over and kissed my lips and placed her hand lovingly on my pussy, rubbing my clit for a moment before she left. We exchanged numbers and promised to stay in touch. I masturbated myself to two fantastic orgasms, while I relived last night’s adventure.
Two weeks went by and I had not heard from M. Then, unexpectedly I answered the phone and it was her. She has left her husband and needs time to think. She told me how much that night in Montreal had meant to her and perhaps after her emotions had settled we could meet again. I told her I would like nothing more and every time my phone rings my heart skips a beat in anticipation of it being M, the woman to whom I made passionate love that night not so long ago.
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