Like clockwork, I walked into my neighborhood Coffee Lounge at 7:45 am. There was the usual cast of characters who were there every weekday when I arrived: Bob the fifty-ish IBM guy, Julie the late twenties sorority girl insurance claims rep, Hank and Joe the two retired guys from the post office, and the blonde twenty-something surf dude who rarely talks to any of us. Bob calls him Spicoli, from the Fast Times at Ridgemont High movie.
Today at one of the large tables, there was a group of three women. They all looked in the early forties age range and were all dressed in the same “Boho Hippie Vegan” vibe: big flowy skirts, funky tops, many beaded and leather bracelets, various necklaces, and all three wore Birkenstocks.
After I sat beside Julie, she cracked, “I think they just off tour with the Grateful Dead.”
I smiled and nodded in agreement.
Like a robot, I pulled out my laptop, notebook, binder, and cell phone. I finally went to the counter and ordered my large iced green tea. As I walked back to the long-raised table where Bob, Julie, and I sit daily, one of the three hippie women told me, “Green tea, nice choice.”
I mumbled, “Thanks. It’s my usual drink."
Twenty minutes later I was drowning in company sales reports when I heard the women saying goodbye to each other, hugging, and then two left the store. The other remained at the table writing in a leather-bound notebook. I could finally look at the slightly chubby woman since the others had left. She had a very face, one of those natural beauties wearing little or no makeup. Her light brown hair framed her face as it cascaded down a foot past her shoulders.
She looked up and caught me staring at her. In a feeble attempt to play it off, I smiled, nodded, and lifted my drink as in “cheers” since she was the one who commented about my green tea. I was shocked when she motioned for me to join her, and then said, “Come here,” as her hand motioned again.
I looked to see if Bob or Julie had caught her offer to me, but thankfully they were tapping away on their laptops. I grabbed my tea and walked thirty feet to her table. “Hi, I’m Grant,” I told her.
The cute curvy woman smiled, flashing her bright white teeth, “I’m Ameilia. Please, sit down.”
We talked for about twenty minutes and shared the basics about each other. I learned that Amelia is an artist, jewelry maker, and photographer. She sells her goods on Etsy, at a handful of boutiques, art studios, and a few weekend art shows along the West Coast. She said it was a nice way to travel in her Sprinter van. I learned that Amelia had been in Oak Valley for two years, and continued, “I’m a bit of a free spirit. My brother calls me a gypsy because I move about every five or six years.”
As we talked, I tried to see what she looked like under her long skirt and two layers on her torso. I guessed her height to be taller than average based on the quick look I had when she said goodbye to her friends. She carried a few extra pounds, but with her height, she looked proportionate.
“Are you single,” Amelia asked.
Taken aback by her straightforwardness, I stumbled over my reply, “Uh, well, I used to be married. But, yes, I’m currently single.”
The more we talked, the more I was drawn to her easygoing personality, sweet smile, and cute laugh. While I don’t usually find the “granola girls” my type, Amelia was a bit of a Renaissance woman. She earned a degree in philosophy from Stanford but was talented in so many artistic avenues. She also graduated from the American Culinary Institute in Napa Valley a decade ago.
Suddenly, Julie interrupted our conversation by saying, “Hey Grant, your phone keeps buzzing. It says ‘Corporate HQ.’ This is the third time in about ten minutes.”
I looked at Amelia and told her, “I better go see what that’s all about, but I’d enjoy seeing you again. When can I spend more time with you? Are you available for dinner tonight?”
She smiled. “Sure. Go make your call and we’ll figure it out afterward.”
Twenty minutes later, Amelia walked by my table and left a note as I was still on the phone with a co-worker. She smiled and winked and turned toward the door. I watched her walk out, and admired “the swing in her backyard,” as her butt cheeks rose and fell in unison. I open the folded note, Dinner at my house, 6:00 pm. Bring a bottle of wine. 216 West Oak Street.
I looked up from Amelia’s note to see Bob and Julie looking at me. “Who is your new friend?” teased Bob. “It looks like you have a date tonight.”
You must understand that Bob, Julie, and I have all been working in the Coffee Lounge in the mornings for over three years since COVID restrictions were lifted. We all arrive before 8:00 am and are usually there until after lunchtime. We’ve become good friends and have socialized as a group, and individually.
I quickly told the two about Amelia, and, despite our seemingly different looks, we were very alike.
Julie likes to tease me that I’m the smooth, good-looking, well-dressed pharma district manager who could sell ice to Eskimos. She recently called me a “Zaddy,” which she had to explain to Bob and me. I’m always dressed for success with pressed chinos and a long-sleeved button-down shirt, usually with the sleeves rolled up for more of a casual look. I take pride in my appearance and work out four or five days a week, alternating between a six-mile jog or in the gym lifting weights and a spin class. This keeps my six-foot-one frame in shape at two-hundred ten pounds. My thick black Italian hair shows a few gray hairs now that I’m forty-six.
**
I arrived at Amelia’s and knocked. When she opened the front door, I couldn’t breathe. She had styled her hair a bit and added some light makeup. She was in different clothes too, but still in the casual boho style. She looked amazing.
I stumbled over the words as I tried to speak, “I…I… These flowers are for you, Amelia. And I brought two bottles of wine since I didn’t know what we were having for dinner.”
She smiled. “Two bottles? Are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me?
I fired back, “Do I need to get you drunk?”
Amelia blushed. “No comment. Please, come in, and I’ll open the wine.”
Her home was an older 1930s bungalow with two bedrooms, one bath, and a typical-sized kitchen and living room for that period. I followed her through the living room, dining room, and the kitchen.
“Wow! This is a gourmet kitchen!” I proclaimed. It had large stainless steel professional appliances, including a six-burner stove and dual oven. I think my jaw was on the floor as I visually inspected each piece from the doorway.
“I love to cook. And I told you I went to the fancy chef school in Napa,” she said proudly.
I looked at Amelia and asked, “Did you ever work in a restaurant?”
“No,” she said modestly. “I just cook for family and friends. It’s always been a passion of mine. My grandmother was an excellent cook and taught me a lot as a child. I cooked dinner for my grandparents most nights during high school.”
We opened a bottle of wine and sat around her kitchen island. Amelia told me everything was just about ready, but we had some time to talk. We shared about our childhoods, college, and our failed marriages. After ten minutes she said she was going to start plating the meal.
“Come here,” I said, holding out my hand.
As she approached, I grabbed her hand and pulled her into me as I wrapped my arms around her around her torso. I looked up at her from the barstool and smiled. “Thank you for having me over for dinner tonight. It’s been years since I’ve been on a date,” I whispered.
She grinned. “A date? Who said this was a date? It’s just dinner.”
I quickly stood up and kissed her on the lips. We froze. We kissed again. And on the third kiss, our tongues began waltzing in each other’s mouths—a slow, soft, sensual waltz.
Amelia broke the kiss and smiled. “Let me get dinner out of the oven.”
**
Almost an hour later, we were still at the dining table as we had lost track of time talking and talking. I took the initiative and told her I would clear the table.
“Just put everything in the sink for now,” she said.
When I returned, she had moved to the couch with our glasses of wine. We had opened a second bottle during dinner, and Amelia had topped off our glasses.
“Amelia, dinner was fabulous. I haven’t had Chicken Cordon Bleu in years, and your mushroom risotto was delicious,” I told her as I looked at her and held her hand.
After she handed me my wine, Amelia said, “You’re welcome. It’s not often that I get to cook for a handsome man. Let’s drink to ‘new friends."
After clinking glasses and taking a sip of wine she set her glass down on the antique coffee table and then did the same with my glass. “Grant, I think you’re a wonderful man. You’re charming, educated, fit, and good-looking. Would you like to get naked tonight?” she calmly said. “Adults our age have needs. I crave to be kissed and touched. I need to get laid tonight.”
I was a bit shocked. “I understand. It’s been about a year since I’ve been intimate with a woman.”
We embraced and began kissing immediately. She was now being very aggressive with her kisses, plunging her tongue into my mouth forcefully. I broke our lip-lock and told her, “Slow down. There is no hurry; we have all night. Let’s agree to pleasure each other with a lot of foreplay, edge each other, and then move on to intercourse.”
Smirking, Amelia whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m just so fucking horny.” She paused, “Stay here, I’ll be back in five minutes.”
She went down the hallway toward her bedroom and yelled that she was changing into something sexy. I assumed lingerie, so I decided to strip down to my undies. My cock was already swelling with anticipation of a night filled with pleasure and passion. I lightly rubbed my manhood over my microfiber black boxer briefs.
I heard the sound of heels walking down the short hallway. My eyes shifted to the doorway, and out came Amelia, dressed in a bra and pantie set in black lace, fishnets, and high heels. She had changed her lipstick to a bright red as well.
She smiled. “I hope you like my outfit.” She paused momentarily. “By the look of that bulge, you must like it.”
I instinctively grabbed my cock and balls. “You look so fucking sexy. Come here.”
We didn’t speak for about five minutes as we kissed and touched as I slowly removed her bra and panties. They were on the floor along with my clothes. As Amelia slowly stroked my rock-hard cock, I could feel the slippery slickness of my precum on her fingers. I moaned softly into her mouth as our tongues did the tango.
She broke our kiss. “Oh, does that feel good? Don’t cum too soon, remember, we have all night.” Amelia bent over and licked the dripping precum off my shaft and head.
“That is so hot. Lick me again,” I asked.
Now she put on a show, looking me in the eyes and starting at my sack, she licked my balls and slowly licked up my steel pole until she reached the ridge of my helmet, swirling her tongue around and around. “Like that?” she teased.
“Yes, just like that,” I mumbled.
Amelia proceeded to lick and suck on my manhood for a good five minutes. She deep-throated my seven inches twice, gagging each time, causing her eyes to water.
“OK, my turn to pleasure you. Would you rather go to your bedroom?” I asked.
“I don’t care. Just touch me, kiss me, lick me, and fuck my brains out,” she giggled.
I didn’t answer her and continued kissing her. Slowly, my lips worked my way down her neck before latching on to her right breast. I gently sucked on a big mouthful for over ten seconds. When I zeroed in on her rock-hard nipple and flicked it with my tongue one of her hands pushed the back of my head into her breast. I went back to sucking, but this time with more suction.
As I sucked on one breast my hand focused on the other, softly caressing her ample bosom. I estimated her chest to be 34DD. When I flicked her nipple, I also started gently rolling her other nipple between my thumb and index finger. When I sucked harder, I pinched and pulled on her hard and erect dark brown nipple.
I began alternating breasts between my mouth and hand. When switching, I’d also return to her lips to kiss her, probe her mouth with my tongue, and kiss down her neck.
I felt her play with my balls first, and then grasp my erect cock and slowly stroke my seven-plus hard inches. My hand moved off her boob and started rubbing her mid-thigh, slowly moving up toward her honey pot. Soon my fingers were rubbing her puffy outer labia, eliciting more moans from the boho beauty.
“Oh Grant, that feels so good,” she sighed.
I looked Amelia in the eyes and told her, “If you like that just wait until I eat your pussy.”
“Oh, yes, lick my horny cunt,” she whispered.
I stood up, extended my hand, and helped Amelia off the couch. We walked hand in hand down the hallway toward her bedroom. When we entered, it was completely dark.
“Let me turn on a few lights,” she said. Amelia turned on three small table lamps, each having some red fabric over the top of the lampshade, casting a red hue throughout the room.
I could now see her furnishings. Not surprisingly, her bedroom had the same vibe as her living room: eclectic, boho, and hippy chic. The bedspread was a blue mandala, as were the pillows. As Amelia turned on that third light she lay down on the bed, patted the other side, and said, “Are you joining me?”
“Not yet,” I said. My hands took hold of her ankles, pulling her to the end of the bed, and then spread her limbs as wide as possible. I went down to my knees and looked at her beautiful pussy. It glistened with her wetness, and her labia was still a bit swollen.
“Mmmm, your pussy looks delicious,” I told her as we stared into each other's eyes.
I slowly kissed her inner thighs, alternating between left and right. My lips made a clockwise circle around her honey pot, barely making contact with her puffy pussy lips. Amelia was already moaning slightly. I then made long, slow licks on her gash, with light pressure. With each bottom-to-top lick, I would press my velvety, flat tongue a bit harder. On the fourth lick, I felt her warmth and wetness.
Stopping briefly, I asked, “Do you prefer licking or sucking on your clit?”
Amelia mumbled, “Both.”
Using both hands, I opened her flesh revealing her pink pleasure palace. Amelia was shaved her love tunnel and hooded pearl were easily visible. I slowly inserted my right middle finger as my tongue licked up and down the top half of her kitty canyon. When the tip of my tongue made contact with her clitoris she twitched. I flicked it several times causing her to release a deep sigh. My mouth instinctively sucked down on her sex nub. Now Amelia was really moaning.
As I released her clit from my oral Hoover, my finger went deeper in search of her G-spot. When I found it she moaned, “Ohhhhh, yes.”
Amelia’s kitty was becoming super wet as I played with her kitty, and her nectar tasted sweet and tart. I briefly looked up to see her with her eyes closed and one hand rubbing a breast. I slowly removed my finger, licked a second finger, and then inserted both digits into her tight twat.
Once again, Amelia mumbled, “Ohhhhh, yes. Bang me and play with my clit.”
I followed her directions and within a minute, I knew she was close to climaxing. Her inner pussy started to spasm around my fingers, her moans became louder, and both hands were teasing her nipples pinching and pulling. My mouth went on lockdown on her clit and went into full vacuum mode, sucking on her swollen tic-tac.
“Yes! Yes!” Amelia said. Her hips were rising slightly to match my hand's downstroke, plunging my fingers just a hair deeper. “I’m so close. Don’t stop.”
As I came up for air momentarily, I told her, “Cum for me baby! Cum on my face!” And I quickly returned to sucking her clit as I continued to finger her, now concentrating more on her G-spot. She had to be close as my fingers felt like they were in a vise.
“I’m going to cum! I’m going to cum!” she said.
Her body began to shake, her pussy tightened, and Amelia was yelling, “I’m cumming! I’m cumming! YES!”
I slowly stopped licking and fingering her and looked at her with her head back, eyes closed, and one hand teasing a nipple. She was gasping for breath as she rode out the orgasm. I remained quiet, not wanting to interfere with her experience.
Softly, she whispered, “Where did you learn how to pleasure a woman? That was amazing.”
I smiled at Amelia and said, “Thank you. I’ve had a few ladies give me some tips over the years.” I then moved up on the bed and snuggled her as she relaxed.
We shared some pillow talk for about fifteen minutes, sharing a bit about our sexual history, kinks, and some things we’d like to try in the future. I was not surprised to learn that Amelia has been in quite a few threesomes, she dated a woman in her late twenties and participated in a five-couple orgy, but I was shocked when she said she had a three-guy gang bang in college. Even with all of that kinky stuff, she had yet to have true anal sex. Sure, she’d been rimmed, fingered, and played with small toys, but no cock in ass sex. I ran through my non-standard sex activities and shared my deep, dark taboo fantasy of wanting to try pegging with a FemDom. That did surprise Amelia.
Toward the end of our conversation, we were kissing, and our hands were caressing each other. I had a huge boner from her playing with my cock and balls, so she was stroking me slowly. I asked her to suck me a bit and to get my dick nice and sloppy wet so we could fuck.
Amelia laughed and opened her side table drawer pulling out a bottle of lube. “I like to start slow and sensual, and then get pounded right before I’m going to climax,” she said. She then lubed up my manhood and climbed on top of me.
We went fairly slow in cowgirl as we kissed, and I sucked on her tits. Amelia impressed me by spinning around into reverse cowgirl while keeping my cock in her pussy. I love the sight of a woman’s ass and starfish in this position. “If I lube my finger, can I finger your ass?” I asked. She quickly said yes.
As Amelia rocked on my cock, I teased her backdoor before slowly sliding in my middle finger. I was soon banging her booty in unison with her rocking on my cock. After maybe four minutes, she had a nice orgasm.
“Your finger felt so good up my ass,” she mumbled. “But enough about me, you haven’t cum yet. What is your favorite position?”
We were soon in doggy and Amelia looked great on all fours. She pressed her chest into the mattress and had her head turned back looking at me while it rested on the bed. She began giving me directions. “Keep fucking me hard and fast. Spank me! Spank me hard,” she said.
As I thrust, my right hand slapped her ass three times as Amelia yelled, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” after each whack.
I knew I was close and since we were going "raw dog" (no condom) I wasn’t sure if I could cum in her pussy. “I’m going to nut soon. Where should I cum?” I asked quickly.
“On my face and in my mouth. Tell me when, and I’ll get on the floor,” she said. I told her it was time, and we both stood up before she got on her knees.
“It’s going to be a huge load. I haven’t jacked off for four or five days,” I mumbled.
Amelia was in the classic porn position; on her knees, head tilted back, looking me in the eyes, and with her tongue sticking out. As I stroked my cock, I envisioned my blasts of jizz covering her face.
“Cum on me, Grant! Gimmie your spunk! Jizz on my face!” she said.
That put me over the edge. I began grunting as I slowed my strokes before I warned her, “I’m cumming! Look at me!”
Amelia’s face was about ten inches away from my throbbing glans when my first blast of semen shot all over her face. It was a long six-inch zig-zagged rope of sticky white spunk that stretched from her left cheek, chin, and down her neck. “YES!” I yelled as I kept jerking.
Two more shots of cum went in her mouth, on her tongue, and across her lips before the last two small bullets of man milk landed on her upper right breast.
Amelia smiled when she told me, “That was nice. I haven’t had a facial in years.” She then wiped up the cum on her tit and licked her finger clean while looking at me.
I bent over and licked the large first load off her cheek and chin. By her reaction, I knew she was surprised. So, I went right in and gave her a deep French kiss, swapping spit and sperm with Amelia. I chuckled as I pulled away.
“You dirty cum licking bastard,” she said as she laughed. “That was hot.”
I gave her a simple lip kiss and said, “I thought you’d enjoy it.”
Amelia had taken hold of my shrinking cock and milked out a large blob of jizz that rested on my helmet. She licked it off in a very sexy and seductive manner. She then swallowed my flaccid five inches. When she finished cleaning my shaft with her tongue, she looked at me with a devilish grin, “It’s been years since I’ve tasted jizz, so I didn’t want any of your cum to go to waste.”
I helped Amelia up off the floor, and we snuggled on the bed. I woke up hours later and noticed her clock, it read two-twenty-five. The next thing I knew I was being kissed up and down my neck. I opened one eye and saw the sun shining through the shutters.
“It’s seven-fifteen. Can I talk you into a shower?” she asked.
“I guess I’m going to be late to the Coffee Lounge today,” I joked.
We took a nice long, hot, soapy shower. I put on my clothes from the night before, and as she kissed me goodbye at her front door, Amelia told me, “Dinner tonight is at six o’clock. And I’ll be your dessert."
The End.
