As Jennifer looked around their ‘playroom’, she realised that George had been back while she was in the shower. Over a chair hung the dress, and on it lay a bra and panties. Jennifer smiled as she saw that George had left the toys of their playtime on sight for her to see. Did he want to test or discourage her?
When she picked up the bra, it was exactly her size. The panties, however, were a size or two smaller. Jennifer could suddenly picture her predecessor in this room: Sasha, with her voluptuous and sag-free young tits quivering in the bite of the clamps and her sexy, daintier ass stretched for the cane. In a surge of jealousy, Jennifer threw bra and panties back on the chair. But then she still slipped into Sasha’s dress, even though she would have preferred to walk up to George naked, to show him how much she – still desirable - wanted him now as her Dom.
George was in the kitchen sitting on the table, sipping on a mug – the smell told her – of freshly brewed coffee. He smiled at her, Jennifer thought, somewhat uncertain. To put him at ease, she quickly stepped up to him. As George wrapped his arm around her waist, Jennifer pressed her pubes against his face. George let his hands slide up her thighs. Taking the shift’s seam with it and finding her naked, his lips and then his mouth closed over the Venus mound offered. Jennifer cried out. For a mad moment, she wanted to raise her leg to push her clit into George’s sucking kiss.
But then, Jennifer held still as George continued to cover her pubes and belly in kisses, and his hands made caressing love to her seared buttocks. But too soon, he disappointed her. Instead of a hoped-for tearing off her hindering dress and pulling her onto his lap and cock - or spreading and lifting her legs to fuck her on the table – George stopped kissing her and pulled down the shift’s seam.
Looking up into Jennifers bewildered face, he said, “I better drive you home now. We both need a rest for our first night together. I am too old, and you – after what you have been through – too exhausted to start a night of wild loving at noon. If you come back tonight, I’ll prepare a feast for us in the bedroom. And after, we can feast on each other for the rest of the night!”
George got up. Nodding at the table, he said, “I got your bag. Come, Jenny.” Then he turned, expecting her to follow, to walk down to the car.
During the drive, both George and Jennifer kept silent. Everything that would have justified questioning about what had happened and would occur tonight was resolved for them.
When Jennifer stepped out of the car into the sun, a breeze moulded the shift’s silk onto her naked body. The thought that it would be a fab afternoon to catch the waves crossed her mind. But then she realised the tiredness behind her sun-blinded eyes. She hurried into her unit and straight onto her bed.
When she woke up, the room, with blinds drawn, was almost dark. It was close to eight, and Jennifer feared for a moment that George might think she had changed her mind. In a panic, Jennifer reached for her phone to send to his newly inserted number its very first text, “I am coming. In 20 minutes or so. Prepare our feast. In OUR bedroom!!! Jenny XXX.”
Jennifer parked her Alfa next to his Merc in the reserved space and then walked up the stairs to the backdoor to enter without knocking. She could only wonder how natural it felt after having known George for less than twenty-four hours. And in the kitchen, George, as he drew the cork from a bottle of Hunter Riesling, just nodded at her as if her coming was nothing out of the ordinary.
But then, glancing sideways at Jennifer’s dress, he asked, “You are still wearing it?”
Jennifer grinned as she stepped up to him. She said, “Yes, George, and I’m still as naked underneath as I’ve been all day, waiting for what you might do. Tonight, I want you to strip me of Sasha’s gear and put it - and what reminds you of her - away for good! I have brought my garments for getting dressed tomorrow.”
“All in good time,” George said as he turned for the door, “come, Jenny, our feast is all set.”
In entering the bedroom, Jennifer gasped in surprise. The room was large, with inbuilt robes, lushly carpeted, and a vast bed. An inbuilt light behind the bedhead reflected softly off the textured wall. And before the bed, George had set out their celebratory feast on a large low table. With a three candles candelabra in its centre, there was their main meal of oysters on a bed of leaves and ice, a silver bowl of caviar with jewellery-like spoons, an oozing brie, a spread of paper-thin prosciutto, a bowl of cubed pineapple and sugar melon, and a basket with dark, thin slices of Pumpernickel and the thicker slices of a French loaf.
Now, George grinned at Jennifer and said, “Well, this is how an old bachelor like I has to live. What sort of woman would ever want to share it?” Jennifer burst into a laugh. Faced again by his caring for her in these preparations, the question had become laughable. But then Jennifer also realised, as she looked at him, standing upright and barefoot before her in his light-grey tracksuit, how intensely she lusted for more than just his caring from him. And she was blissfully sure that under his tracksuit, George’s cock was at the ready to cure the itch in her fevering pussy.
When Jennifer looked at the spread on the table, she suddenly realised she was also starving for food. After eating nothing all day, her stomach had recovered from last night’s insult.
As she and George settled down on the floor to share their meal, he watched with amusement the undisguised, childlike greed with which Jennifer filled her plate. And then, he loved it how his Jenny took gnarled shell after shell of the South Coast oysters to her lips to let their slippery, deliciously depraved tasting core slide into her mouth.
As they enjoyed their meal, relishing it bite by bite, Jennifer told George some things about herself that would clear his mind of, probably, unstated doubts.
She told him that after her wild teens, as one of the most courted and too often won girl on Ballina’s beaches, she met, fell in love, and married - against all predictions - a hardworking, young businessman. He took over from his family a small carrier business. Over the twenty-nine years of their marriage, they built it into the largest trucking concern in their town with her in partnership. They had no children. When Robert died from colon cancer, she, Jennifer sold their business and property in Ballina. Being financially independent, she bought her condominium in Banks Entrance four years ago. Its beach and surf had been her favoured fun place for years. Besides business contacts, nothing held her in Ballina.
At this point, Jennifer grinned and admitted, “My solid reputation, acquired as one of the town’s businesswomen, became a burden. Here in Banks Entrance, I’m free to misbehave, the way I’ve occasionally done here, even during my marriage! As you know, I still do.”
Jennifer had moved closer to George. As she did so. Sasha’s tight dress had again shifted up and left her pussy full in view. And her hand had wandered onto the sizeable bulge in George’s track pants. Momentarily distracted, she did not notice that George had reached for an ice cube on the oyster plate. When his hand closed over Jennifer’s pussy, the palm pressed the ice onto her clit.
With a shriek and gasp of surprise Jennifer threw herself back. George leaned over her. His mouth, in closing on hers, drunk in Jennifer’s gasping and moaning as he rubbed the only slowly melting ice all over her slit. And then he whispered, “Oh, I love your hot pussy, Jenny!”
“Why are you waiting so long to make it yours?” Jennifer moaned, “God, I want you to take me now, in ways I’ve never been taken before!”
George, with his voice hoarse from his mounting desire, raised Jennifer’s to fever-pitch by reminding her, “We have made our beginning. Remember, Jenny, you were on the bed, blindfolded, your legs spread and lifted by the bar. And you, gasping under your mask. You knew what you showed me: your shamelessly wide open, turned on, hot, wet-glistening cunt! Its swollen lips were still throbbing from the whip, and now it waited for, wanted more! And then you came at the first stroke of the cane and gushed over my hands at the second cut! And you knew that I wanted too – that I would - eventually, sink not only my fingers into this hot-punished, naughty cunt of yours. The time has come!”
George rose and pulled Jennifer up. In pulling Sasha’s dress over her head, he almost tore it because Jennifer did not stand still. She slipped out of his arms onto her knees, clawing at his track pants and tearing them down. Crying out, “Yes!” Jennifer encircled George’s solid, thick cock with both hands to bring it to her wide opening mouth. And then her face pressed into George’s groin in her greed to take all of him in one greedy swallow.
George stood in shock for a long moment and looked at Jennifer as she threatened, eyes closed, to devour his manhood. Then he gently took her face in his hand and pulled her upright to lay her back on the bed. As he parted her legs to kneel between, Jennifer, feeling robbed, turned her face away in momentary anger.
But then, as the girth of George’s cock began, thrust by controlled, ever deeper penetrating thrust to widen Jennifer’s pulsating cunt, she turned and slung her arms around his upper body with a gasping moan. And when his cock lay finally hotly encased deep in her, Jennifer and George united in a long, mingling- and wrestling-of-tongues kiss that confirmed how truly they were joined.
And then George began to fuck her, lovingly, slowly, caressingly. At the same time, with pausing in his thrusts to let his cock rest in her or kiss and tease her pussy and clit, George talked. Much more than the moans and grunting Jennifer had been used to in her lovers, his words, and the hot breath of his whispers on her opening lips stirred the fire in her pussy below.