Walking to the office I think to my wrinkles. Each and every one talking about my story, about me. At 52, I can say I don’t have many wrinkles, but some. Especially around my mouth. I hate those because I can’t apply lipstick anymore. I’ve always loved a bright red lipstick. And I think about my body. I’ve never loved my body and I’ve never taken care of it. Nobody ever taught me to love my body.

I’m learning now how important my body is. I can’t say it’s too late but for sure it’s harder. I’m lucky because even if I’m overweight, way over, I still have all my shapes. Not like some of the women I see around. But still, my butt is big, and not attractive. Or so I thought.

And my belly. I hate it. No matter how often I hit the gym, that belly, that hosted my four children, is always too big.

During my walk I look around. I love to watch people and imagine their stories. I see couples holding hands and dream. If only!

I was waiting at the light to cross the street holding two coffee mugs. Over there I see the corner where I turn and I know Bill, the guard, will be there welcoming all the employees with his bright smile. I always buy a coffee for him. It makes me happy.

Lots of people are around me waiting for the green light, and I hear somebody behind me making a sound like a purr.

What’s that? I look around and find Ian behind me sneering. Ian is Abby’s boss. Abby is the best of the friends. Her office is right in front of my store and we usually have lunch together.

Few weeks ago, during one of our lunch talking about girls’ matters (sex mostly), Ian approached, and Abby introduced us. He’s a hunk even at his age. He’s 54 (I’ve asked Abby, that’s how I know). I occasionally see him arriving or leaving the office when I pay attention to the outside. My store is in Michigan Avenue and with its large window I can see all the people walking back and forth. Chicagoans and tourists. 

“Good morning Mr. Donahue! How are you doing? It’s warming up. Do you like it? I love the warm weather!”

He doesn’t know why I love the warm spring: it’s because I can take off all the layers of clothes Chicago’s winter force me to wear.

“Good morning Mrs. Lacey. Oh, I like it just right! The view is amazing. Is this coffee for me?” he asks pointing at my two mugs.

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t know your favorite. One is for me and the other is for Bill, the guard of the building beside my store.”

In the meantime, the light turns green and we start walking together.

“Do you mind call me Ian? I don’t like the formalities.”

“Sure, and I’m Lily.”

“Are you going to lunch with Abby today?”

“Nope: she has a doctor appointment, so I’ll stay in the BOH and have lunch with the bakers.”

“Have you ever had lunch at Eataly on Ohio Street?”

“No. It’s way too expansive.”

“At what time you have your break?”

“Noon.”

“I’ll be there at 12:05. See you then. I can’t wait!”

And so he leaves, waving with a hand and that grin on his face. Without asking if I wanted to have lunch with him or not. I stay there, looking at his amazing ass and thinking. I’m speechless. And believe me it’s not easy!

My morning went smoothly, always checking the building in front of my window. A new sensation on my stomach and wetness on my panties.

 I’ve got a text from Abby saying she’s sorry to leave me alone. I’m not telling her of the change of plans. I prefer to wait and see how it goes.

11:58 and I’m ready. The door in the front building is opening. It’s not him. 11:59. Nothing. 12:04. Here he comes! I pretend to not be looking. I don’t want him to think I’m impatient.

“Twelve-O-Five. Ready?”

Oh yes! “Sure. Let me clock out”

We are walking side by side. And then he turns left.

“This is Grand, not Ohio.”

“Do you trust me?”

It’s myself I don’t trust, I want to say. “Yes, Sir.”

He looks at me with a mischievous grin. I’m lost in lust. My panties are dripping wet.

Suddenly he stops, takes a key-chain from his pocket and open a big wooden door.

I don’t know what to do.

I want to go in with him. I really do. I want to be taken. I want him to touch my pussy and make me cum with his fingers.

But there is the other part of me, the conscious one, that stops me.

“What is this place? Where are we going?”

He now faces me. And I can smell his aftershave. So musky, so arousing.

“You said you trust me. We won’t do anything you don’t want. C’mon! We don’t have the whole afternoon, do we?”

“My break on Friday is two hours,”

The brat side of myself won!

We enter an apartment very bright and small. He locks the door behind me.

“Whose this place is?”

“Mine.  When I work late I don’t want to ride the train. It’s not safe,”

I kick off my shoes by the door and leave my purse on a coffee table. I follow him to the kitchen. There is a table with four chairs, a huge counter and all the appliances a woman can dream about. Or at least I would! Looking around I can see two doors, probably a bedroom and the bathroom. Nothing else. And probably the kitchen is the biggest room!

“Is your wife aware of this place?”

“Kind of. She knows I have a place where I stay when I work late, but she’s never been here.”

I’d love to have a place where I could hide every once in a while. A secret place only for me, and my secret world.

While he’s looking for something to eat, I sit on the counter. Not too relaxed because my shirt can’t hide those little sausages around my waistline that I hate so much when I sit.

He then turns toward me, looking at me from head to toe and back. Very slowly, studying each feature. Each imperfection.

“Something wrong?” I ask to break the tension I feel inside.

“Au contraire! Everything is right where it should be. Don’t be ashamed of your body or afraid of it. It’s not your enemy” he then come closer. His stomach touching my knees. His hands on my calves, caressing them, at first lightly then adding some pressure. With his body he forces me to open my legs to come closer. Not that he must force much. My hands on my thighs. I’m embarrassed. I don’t want to misunderstand and don’t know what to do with my hands. His eyes on mine, then on my mouth, then on my breasts.

I love my breasts. They’re not too much but you can see them. A cup C.

He starts to unbutton my shirt, breathing deeply, inhaling my perfume. I’m not breathing anymore. Last time my husband, or any man, unbuttoned my shirt I was still in my thirties. Since then… nothing.

He then closes his eyes, inhaling, and diving his face between my breasts. He pulls my shirt and my bra’s straps down my shoulder. Slowly uncovering my breasts. He cups them and starts rolling my nipples between his fingers.

I can’t close my eyes. I want to see what he’s doing. I can’t do anything. Only feel.

His hands travel down to my waist, tickling me, then to my hips and behind squeezing my cheeks.

Oh my god! I’m so wet. It’s so arousing.

I finally move my hands. On his biceps, his muscular shoulders, his neck, in his hair. I try to breath, but this is too much. I open his shirt and look at his chest, touch his skin. My hands are shaking, the feeling is too strong. His smell is mesmerizing: a musky aftershave mixed with his sweat and the smell of the excitement.

He unbuttons my slacks and tucks his hand between them and my panties. The sensation is too much for me. I support my body with my hands on the counter and throw my head behind.

“Mmmmm. So wet. Is this all for me?”

Duh?! “Yes Sir” speaking is a hard challenge right now. His hand pushing on my pussy still on the wrong side of my panties. I try to think when the last time was a man did this to me.

I slightly push up my butt to help him pulling off my slacks.

He then opens wide my legs and dives his nose closer to my pussy inhaling my lust. Still on the wrong side of my panties.

He then rips my panties off with a sharp movement.

He kisses me. His tongue fucking my mouth while two fingers thrust inside my pussy. No resistance at all. I can’t hold myself sit anymore. I’m shaking. I lay down on the counter and pull up my feet.

His mouth starts devouring my pussy while his fingers continue thrusting in and out. In and out. I feel his fingers hooking inside my pussy.

When was the last time a man ate my pussy?

I arch my back. My hips pushing toward his hand and his mouth. His tongue playing with my clit.

I’m ready to cum. But I don’t want to. I know that once I cum, everything will end. I don’t want for this to end. After so many years I want this to last for hours. But I really can’t.

I start screaming. Arching. Pushing.

“Make me cum, please.”

“Let it go.”

His fingers pushing hard in my pussy and his tongue playing with my clit.

My legs start shaking. And I cum. Badly. That’s the best orgasm ever!

My body is now a pudding.

He helps me to sit up and kisses me. I can smell myself on his mouth. And suddenly I’m ready again. I want him inside. I get down the counter and we go to the bedroom.

I stand in front of an amazing bed and he’s standing behind me. I’m naked from the waist down. My shirt still down my arms and my bra beneath my breasts. He’s hugging me from behind. Still fully dressed but I can feel his hard cock against my ass.

The sensation is mesmerizing. I always wanted to be taken from behind but never dared to ask.

His left hand is cupping my breasts, my nipples stiffen. The right hand is caressing my too soft belly, slowly going south. He kisses my ear lobe, my neck.

“Your smell is so arousing. And your ass is the best in all Chicago.”

“You need a deep eye exam. But thank you. Yours is not bad as well. I’ve always wanted to squeeze it.” I bring my arms behind and start squeezing his butt while pushing his cock even closer to my ass.

He starts touching my pussy. I open my legs and he open my nether lips circling my clit. Oh my!

With a hand behind my neck, he gently pushes me to bend toward the bed. My hands on the bed. My ass up.  I hear him unfastening his belt, unbuttoning his pants, and pulling them down. His hard cock is now between my ass cheeks. It’s a terrific sensation. So exciting. I love it so much.

His hands on my ass. His finger slipping between my lips, up to my back hole. Nobody ever touched me there. The sensation is travelling along my spine. My nipples are growing longer, longing for his rough touch.

“Do you like it? Can I go deeper?”

“I actually prefer not to be asked. I just want to feel. Do what pleases you. I’ll stop you if something makes me uncomfortable”

He then enters my hole with the finger lubricated with my own wetness.

“Oh, my god!”

“I want to fuck your from behind. Do I need a condom? I’m safe.”

“I’m safe too and no risk to get pregnant” There’s nothing anymore.

He then enters my pussy with his cock. His finger still in my hole. He bents toward me and with a hand rolls my nipple.

“This will be rough and fast. Sorry but your ass is too good and the feeling of my dick in your pussy is the best I’ve felt for a long time. Touch your clit. I want us to cum together.”

So I do. It’s always been something private. I’ve never touched myself in presence of somebody else, but I’ve always wanted to.

In a little bit I’m ready. I want him to fuck me harder. I want to feel pain. And pleasure.

“Please, harder. Faster. I’m ready.”

His finger slips off my hole. He grabs my hips and starts to push hard. I hear the moisture noise of his dick in and out my pussy. His thighs hitting my ass. My breasts dangling. But I don’t care. I just want to feel.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck,” we’re screaming in unison.

That afternoon my mind is reliving the two hours of pure sex. The absence of panties to remind me he’s torn them off. I left them there. Totally forgotten. Or maybe not.

The conscious part of me felt dirty and sordid.

The other one felt so good.

A text from Abby makes me return to the present:

“Everything’s good. Sorry I left U alone”

“Oh. I wasn’t alone. In fact, I was in very good company.”

“???”

“It’s been hot! Call U later”