I was bored one recent Saturday afternoon and decided to visit one of the area’s craft breweries. There are a handful within a short drive, and I decided to go to a six-month-old brewery taproom as they have a great patio and outdoor area.

The weather was a pleasant lower eighty degrees and I was dressed casually in khaki shorts, an obnoxious Hawaiian shirt, my signature summer straw fedora, and Ray-Ban Wayfarers sunglasses.

I grabbed a beer at the bar and headed outside. The crowd was decent, with about half of the tables and seats available. I eyed two women, about my age, sitting at one of the twelve-foot-long picnic tables and figured I’d sit at the other end.

“Hi ladies, do you mind if I take the other end of the table?” I asked.

They talked over each other telling me to go ahead. One woman I’d guess was fifty, with shoulder-length blond hair, blue eyes, and very cute. The second might have been a few years older, Hispanic, with long black hair and brown eyes.

“Thanks. I’m Tom by the way,” I offered, hoping to learn their names.

The blonde replied, “Hi Tom, I’m Susan and this is Marci.”

Marci quickly added, “We work together as nurses.”

As they talked, I glanced at both women’s left hands, no wedding rings. I wondered if they were single or possibly dating someone.

“Oh, nurses,” I said. “Thank you for your dedication during Covid. My cousin is a nurse, and I heard all sorts of stories from her.”

“So, what do you do?” asked Susan.

“I’m a schoolteacher. Sixth grade,” I told them. “I’m off for eight weeks starting today.”

They made a few comments about online distance learning and how thankful they were that their kids were now out of college.

“You two are too young to have kids out of college,” I said honestly.

Marci laughed, “I have twenty-three-year-old twins. They did their last few months online last spring.”

“And mine are twenty-three and twenty-four,” said Susan.

“Well, nice to meet you. I’ll let you two get back to your conversation,” I said as I pulled out my iPhone.

As the two talked I tried to mind my own business although I did listen in on their conversation now and then as I looked at the mindless drivel on Instagram and Facebook. After about a half-hour I had finished my beer and was going to get a second. I stood up and noticed that they were both empty.

“Can I buy you two a beer?” I asked. “I did crash your table.”

They blushed a bit and said they’d love another beer. I asked if one of them could join me, “I’ll drop all the beers if I try to carry three.”

Marci jumped as if she’d been hit by lightning. “I’ll go.” She looked at Susan and gave her a wink, which I’m sure I was not supposed to see.

As Marci and I waited in line we chatted a bit. I figured I’d be straightforward asking, “Are you single?”

She smiled, showing off her cute dimples. “Kinda. I’m a widow of four years.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” I said empathetically.

“He died from cancer,” she said. After a long pause, “I haven’t dated at all. How about you? Are you single?”

Laughing, “Very single. I’m divorced four-plus years,” I told Marci.

We seemed to have parallel lives with college, marriage, kids, etc. I asked, “So I guess you haven’t tried online dating?”

“Oh my gosh, no. I’ve heard too many crazy stories from my friends,” she said. “You?”

I admitted I had been on and off Match a couple of times. “But I’m not having much luck. Either the ladies I meet are crazy, in massive debt, have five cats, or have adult kids living at home.”

Marci laughed, “Well, I’m not in debt, no cats, and my kids live in SoCal, but I might be crazy.”

We returned to the table, and I took the opportunity to sit next to Marci.

Susan with an all-knowing smirk, “I see you’re crashing our party now.”

“I can move back to my end of the table,” I said looking at both ladies.

“No. I think my shy friend is smitten with you,” Susan laughed.

As the saying goes, “If looks could kill,” Marci shot Susan the evil eye.

Over the next forty-five minutes, the three of us got to know each other. It was obvious that Marci and I had a connection. Susan mentioned that she needed to get going as she had plans to meet her sister and mother for dinner.

As the two stood up, I took a gamble and asked Marci, “Would you like to go to dinner? Something casual. Pizza or Mexican maybe?”

I could tell I caught her off guard. The girls looked at each other. There was a brief pause when Susan said, “She’d love to go to dinner.”

“Susan!” said Marci. She turned and looked at me, “My friend here has a big mouth. But, yes, dinner sounds great.”

As the three of us walked to the parking lot, Marci and I decided on Old Towne Pizza. While I offered to drive her, she said that OTP was on her way home, so she’d drive herself.

Over salad and pizza, I learned she was originally from Sunnyvale and went to UC Davis for college. She met her husband at UCD, and they moved to Sacramento after graduation as both landed jobs in town. Her full name is Maricela Anna Cervantes, but her family has always called her Marci.

As she told me more about her husband’s battle with cancer I reached across the table and held her hand. “Thank you. You’re such a gentleman.”

“I understand your path. My Ex had cancer twice. Chemo and radiation are brutal,” I told her.

Marci asked more about my Ex’s bouts with cancer, but I nicely declined, “A story for another time. Let’s talk about something positive!”

We got off on a tangent about traveling. Where we’ve been and where we’d like to go in the future. Like myself, Marci had been to Hawaii many times and we enjoy several of the same spots in Mexico. We both had the cities of Austin and Nashville on our “Bucket List,” and she wanted to go to New Orleans.

I excused myself to use the restroom and when I returned Marci was standing up near the table. My heart sank as I guessed this meant the end of our impromptu date. When I approached, she said, “You bought dinner so let me buy you an ice cream down the street at Foster’s Freeze.”

We sat on a bench and enjoyed our chocolate-dipped cones as we chatted more, including about our adult kids. As we were finishing up, I casually said, “I have really enjoyed meeting you today. I sure picked the right table at Dust Bowl. I hate for tonight to end.”

Much to my surprise, Marci asked, “Would you like to come to my house for a nightcap?”

“Sure, that sounds great,” I told her. “But first, I’d like to do something.”

I leaned in and softly kissed her on the lips. And again. On the third kiss, I opened my mouth a bit and slowly probed my tongue between her lips. Marci accepted my tongue, and we had a short tongue dance.

As we parted Marci looked at me. “That was nice. You’re the first man I’ve kissed in years.”

I simply smiled at her and whispered in her ear, “I’m honored.” I then kissed her neck a few times. I took her by the hand and walked her back to her car. “I don’t even have your phone number. Don’t lose me on the way to your house.”

Soon we were walking in the front door of her house. It was about ten years old and a Spanish style with pink-ish stucco and a terracotta-colored tile roof. Inside it was decorated fairly contemporary. Out back was a small pool, with a hot tub under a custom-built pergola. Marci confided that she owned the home outright, paying off the mortgage with her husband’s life insurance, along with her kid’s college loans. “I’m set financially between my job, the hospital pension, and my husband’s firefighter pension. I plan on retiring at sixty and then traveling a lot.”

“We have the same plan,” I said. I explained that my parents had both died recently and I inherited seven figures, owned my home, and was thinking I’d retire at sixty, in five more years.

She poured us a glass of Merlot and we sat on the couch, my arm around her shoulder. We talked, kissed, sensually touched, and soon were naked and in a heavy foreplay session.

Knowing I was the first man to kiss her since her husband’s passing, I took my time pleasuring this Latina beauty. Marci was of average height, five-six, and with a toned size six-eight body. She had well-proportioned tits, 34Ds. Her skin tone was on the darker side, and she had large dark brown areolas. Her nipples were also large, almost the size of a sugar cube. For not being in the dating scene, Marci had a thin well-groomed landing strip above her clit of about two inches long.

She sat on the couch, and I was on my knees on the floor slowly licking her pussy. Not only did she taste sweet, but her musky aroma was telling me she was primed to be fucked tonight.

RING RING! RING RING! It was Marci’s phone on the end table breaking our mojo. “Fuck, it’s Susan,” she said as she declined the call. “I was so close. You have a magical mouth. Make me cum,” she begged.

I went back to work on her kitty. As I worked her back up into a frenzy Marci was moaning and moving her ass on the couch. I then added a finger into her hot wet box and man was she tight. Like eighteen-year-old pussy tight.

“Oh, fuck yes,” she mumbled. “My clit, suck my clit please!”

I had just been teasing her with my tongue flicking her pleasure nub, but I did as she requested and sucked on her clit and continued the tongue-flicking. Her hips were bucking into my mouth and her hands were now on top of my head

I added a second finger and searched for her g-spot, curving my fingers up towards her tummy. “Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck! Yes! Yes! Yes!” she exclaimed as her body shook and my face was now covered in her pussy nectar.

“Damn, you taste so good! How was that orgasm?” I asked.

I looked up to see Marci with her eyes closed, both hands caressing her tits, and a huge smile. “That was the best orgasm I’ve had in probably six years. And way better than my vibrator,” she confided. “Damn, where did you learn how to eat pussy like that?” she asked laughing, still coming down from her pleasure wave.

“A college girl who I hooked up with several times my freshman year. She lived two doors down in the dorm,” I said. “She taught me everything.”

“Can you thank her for me,” she said laughing.

“I’ll do that. We’re friends on Facebook,” I joked.

Just then Marci’s phone dings. A text message. Groaning, “Susan again,” she said. She opens the text and reads it. Then she read it to me, “What is going on? You didn’t answer or call me back. Are you with Tom? What number?”

Puzzled I asked, “What does ‘what number’ mean?”

“It’s our code. She came up with it when she started dating a few years back. One is great, two is good, three is ok, four is meh, and five is bad. Six is ‘call me so I can escape,’” she detailed. She explained that they share their phone location with each other too.

“So, what are you texting her?” I asked.

“I just replied, ‘Tom 1!’” she giggled.

Ding. Susan again, “Details”

Marci replied, “Tomorrow.”

Susan said, “Now.”

Marci texted back, “Tom is here. Tomorrow. Good Night!”

I chuckled as she read the last few messages to me. “What if I’m still here tomorrow?” I asked coyly.

“Let’s go to bed. I want to suck your big cock, get it nice and hard, and then I want you to fuck me all night long. It’s been a long, long time,” Marci said.

Laughing, “I hope I’m not just a one-time boy toy.”

Marci turned and looked at me. “I hope not either. I like you, Tom. Not to get too serious, but you’re everything that a woman looks for in a man. Especially at our age. Career, house, pension, funny, and, you’re good-looking.”

As she showed me the house on the way to her bedroom, she asked me to stop before entering the master suite. She went in and twenty seconds later she called for me to enter. “Sorry, but I thought it was best if I put away my husband’s pictures. Both for you and for me,” she said.

“I totally understand,” I said.

Marci then dropped to her knees and smiled, “Get over here and let me suck that beautiful cock of yours. I really love sucking dick and it has been far too long.”

She lightly caressed my cock and balls with the touch of a sensual woman. As she stroked my fat seven inches, she kissed my thighs and made her way towards my balls. Marci lifted my cock up fully exposing the boys. She slowly licked my sack several times before taking one testicle into her mouth. As she rolled it around her mouth, she added suction, and then “pop,” Marci released my ball from her mouth. She continued licking and sucking my balls as she slowly stroked my cock.

“Oh, fuck that feels so good,” I moaned.

Finally, she took my large mushroom head into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around the ridge giving me a shiver. She slowly went down on my full shaft, pressing her nose into my short pubes. As she pulled back her tongue ran the length of my manhood on the underside.

“Shit, you have skills Marci,” I whispered.

“I’ve just started. Why don’t we get on the bed?” she said.

I positioned myself close to the headboard with several pillows behind me, giving me a great view of this sexy woman about to give me a blowie. As Marci got between my legs I smiled and told her, “Now where were we?”

She resumed her skillful licking, sucking, and kissing of my cock and balls. Her hands went from my shaft to my balls, and to my nipples. Marci licked down my shaft and her tongue began to flick my balls with a rapid-fire rhythm. As she licked further south, I lifted my ass up a bit and she teased my brown starfish quickly.

“Oh, yes,” I purred in pleasure.

“Pull your legs back,” said Marci.

For the next five minutes, she rimmed my bunghole, kissed it, spit on it, and probed my dark tunnel with her tongue. After one spit, she licked her finger and slowly eased in one knuckle deep. My reaction gave her encouragement. She pulled back some and went in two knuckles deep, and then started feeling around for my prostate.

“Right there,” I said. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Giggling, “I’m going to milk every drop of cum from you. Tell me before you cum as I want it in my mouth,” Marci told me.

As she gently rubbed my p-spot she alternated between licking, stroking, and sucking my throbbing rock-hard love stick. As I focused on the internal pleasure, I could feel my seed wanting to escape.

“I’m close. Suck me!” I proclaimed.

Marci started bobbing on my dick with the speed of a motor piston, up and down, up and down, with the added pleasure of her tongue on my shaft. She was now banging my ass with the same fury.

“Yes! Yes! Get ready!” I said, and then yelled, “I’m cumming!”

I shot three large gushers of my pearly white goodness into her mouth. Several smaller spurts followed. As Marci stroked my manhood getting every drop of my jizz, she looked up at me with a twinkle in her eye, opened her mouth showing me my load, and swallowed. She then stuck her tongue out and beamed, “All gone!”