The Mystery of the Purple Panties
written by:
Joshua

My wife has always been one of those kind-hearted souls. Three years ago, Sheila, a sixty year old coworker of hers fell upon hard times. It seems Sheila's husband of thirty years decided the nineteen year old cocktail waitress at the local bar could offer him more in the way of sex and excitement so he left Sheila to navigate the world on her own. It wasn't long after the bastard left that Sheila realized the expenses of maintaining a five bedroom home exceeded the small pittance of alimony she received every month and so, she was forced to find a small, one-bedroom apartment located on the north side of town. Sheila's three kids were as useless as their father: two were in prison on drug charges and the other, the only daughter of the family, promptly informed her mother that the reason Sheila's father left was because Sheila was, in her own words, "Pretty lame as a mother." If I'd been there when that snide bitch uttered those words to her mother, I'd have fixed her attitude in a way she would have found quite unpleasant. But I wasn't, and that's a good thing.

After six months, however, Sheila's nerves and self-confidence began to fray and the effects of too many dramatic and personal changes in too short a time began to affect Sheila both at work and at home. Being alone certainly didn't help but it was while she was at work that Sheila began to miss deadlines, the quality of her work suffered, and many times she missed work altogether. Because my wife's cubicle was located beside Sheila's and since they'd known each other five years, Margie, my wife, asked if Sheila could move in to our home just for the summer. "After that," Margie said as we lay naked in bed one evening after a marathon of sex, "Sheila's mind will be back where it belongs and she'll be able to be on her own again." Perhaps the sensation of my wife's lips closing around my cock persuaded me to agree to allow Sheila to move in with us, or maybe it was the fact that I'm just a really nice guy. Either way, Sheila moved in the next month and now, she occupies the upstairs bedroom.

All that was two years ago. In the time since Sheila moved in, she really has been a pleasant houseguest. I mean, the woman can cook like a trained chef, she's neat and quiet, and never has imposed on Margie and I once. My wife and I have taken long vacations and left Sheila alone and when we returned, it was as if we had never really left at all. Sheila has never asked us to allow a gentleman friend to stay the night, mainly because she's never once mentioned having an interest in any other man. In fact, having Sheila around has been a better situation than I imagined. I've grown accustomed to her presence, and most times, it's as if she really isn't there at all.

Before I go any further, let me describe myself, my wife, and Sheila. I'm twenty-eight years old, a college graduate with two Master's degrees, and I enjoy working out and staying active. I make my living by teaching public school. I'm just over six feet in height, have an average build, and blue eyes my wife says was what drew her to me when we first met. My wife, Margie, is shorter than me at five feet, six inches, fantastic tits, and a build that has caused me to want to kick the shit out of men when I catch them staring at her when we're out in public. She too has brown hair, but her hair stretches all the way to her shapely ass. She dresses to kill, believe me, and will often go out wearing a short skirt and high heels. She's just a year younger than me and at age twenty-seven, my wife is a knockout. In bed, she's a monster. I mean, she's open to everything I suggest and often comes up with ideas of her own that make me wonder where she got the idea in the first place.

Margie loves to tease me, too. For example, one day while I was at school, Margie sent me a text message on my cell phone. I'd just got my class of high-schoolers started on an activity and was walking around the class making sure everyone was busy. I felt the phone vibrate in my pocket, and when I viewed the message Margie had sent, I almost dropped the phone when I saw that it wasn't a text message asking to meet for dinner, for example, but, rather a photo she'd taken with her camera phone. Margie had slipped her camera under her desk at work and taken a photo of her hairy cunt. I almost dropped my phone when I saw her cunt lips protruding from between her pussy hairs! For the remainder of the day, though, the memory of that photo kept creeping back into my mind and disrupting my day. Less than five minutes after I arrived home that afternoon, I had Margie laid across the sofa and was fucking her from behind, her dress thrown up around her waist, her high-heeled feet spread wide for me to slam my cock forcefully into her cunt. Our marriage has always been that way with Margie seeking new ways to entice me from a distance, or in some other, indirect way. I never know what she'll try next.

And then, there's Sheila. Sheila is sixty years old, but she's the same height as Margie. I guess when she was younger, Sheila was an attractive woman, but now, with all the stress she's been under the past two years or more, the pressure has affected her appearance. Don't get me wrong: In the time Sheila's lived with Margie and myself, I've seen her look attractive, especially when she wears makeup and a dress. Her hair is a white-grey and hangs to just below her shoulders. Because she's birthed three worthless children, her ass is broad, much broader than Margie's. And although I've only seen her tits when she wears a one-piece bathing suit around our pool, I'd have to say they measure in the 42d range. But one thing I have noticed is that her legs are simply to die for. I guess that comes from all the walking around the office she and Margie must do. When she wears shorts or the bathing suit, I often find myself sneaking looks at Sheila's legs and asking myself whether or not her useless husband really enjoyed finding his cock buried between her cunt lips.

Sheila has made herself useful in the time she's been a resident at our house, however. Since she's stopped working, she agreed to clean our home in exchange for room and board. And she often cooks as well, although neither Margie nor myself ask her too. Her sense of humor is amazing and lately, I believe I've noticed that she seems to be coming out of her depression and becoming a happier person. I hope so, at least.

About two months ago, something happened that hasn't left my mind. I'd come home late from the gym and needed a shower. Margie was away for the weekend, upstate visiting her mother, and had decided to take Sheila with her. The house was dark and quiet as I made my way through the halls to my bedroom. I placed my gym bag on the bed and began to remove the sweat-soaked clothes and to my surprise, found a pair of purple-colored panties nestled just inside the bag. Holding the thin garment up to the light, it wasn't hard to see through them to the other side of the room. At first, I couldn't believe my wife's panties had found their way to my bag, but when I recalled that Margie and I often do our laundry together, I understood how a piece of her clothing could become mixed with mine. Smiling, because I also realized that finding the panties in my bag was a way for my wife to remind me of how sexy she was, I stashed the thin garment back in my bag. I forgot about the panties until a week later when I realized they were missing from the bag. I don't know why, but I never brought up the topic of my wife's panties being in my bag to her. It was lucky that I didn't.

A week after the panty-in-my-bag incident, I was in the middle of a class, teaching about the election process. I always wear a sport coat or blazer when I teach to separate myself from the high school students in my class. While the students and I discussed presidential elections, I reached into the side pocket of my blazer and immediately made contact with a piece of soft cloth. Not knowing exactly what the cloth was, but again suspecting my wife, I decided to wait until later, during my planning period, to see what it was that occupied my pocket. As soon as the last student left the room, I sat at my desk in the quiet room and removed the cloth. I really wasn't surprised to find that this time, Margie had placed an identical pair of purple panties from before in my coat pocket. The panties I held in my hand in the quiet classroom were the same style, same color, same everything as the panties I'd discovered in my gym bag just last week. The only difference, however, was the presence of a small, two-inch by three-inch card with a one word, typed message. "Interested?" was the lone word on the card. I couldn't help but smile as I thought about the panties covering my wife's shapely ass, and how much she squealed with joy each time I slowly removed her panties and we got down to the business of fucking. Since I was alone, I dialed my wife's cell phone number, eager to tell her that hell yes, I was interested in whatever it was she was offering.

The phone rang and rang before someone finally answered and stopped the ringing. The voice that answered the ringing phone unmistakably belonged to Sheila. "How may I help you?" she asked. When I announced that it was me, Margie's husband, Sheila laughed softly as if she was expecting me to call. "Oh, hello, David," she said, "How are you today?" I informed Sheila that I was doing just fine but needed to speak with my wife. "Oh, David, I'm afraid Margie's out for the moment. Is there anything I can do for you, dear?" I informed Sheila that my reason for calling wasn't really important and that it could wait, Sheila mysteriously replied, "Oh, can it, David?" I wasn't certain what she mean by her comment, but I let it slip as I told Sheila that no, there was nothing she could do at the moment. "Well, then, I guess we'll have to find that moment when I can, won't we?" Sheila asked, again her comment seeming odd to me.

Now, I really wasn't struck or confused by Sheila's comment because in the time she'd been living with us, there had been plenty of times when she, Margie, and myself had exchanged racy comments between each other, but most of those occasions had been after we'd been drinking massive quantities of wine. I laughed into the phone and replied, "I guess we will, then, Sheila." I proceeded to inform Sheila that what I needed to discuss with Margie could wait until I returned home that afternoon. I wished Sheila a good day and ended the call. I still had thirty minutes remaining in my planning period, however, and I couldn't resist holding the purple panties in my hand and fantasizing about them stretching across my wife's ass while I used my teeth to remove them. I had to quickly change my thoughts when I realized my cock was beginning to grow hard inside my trousers. It just wouldn't do for my next class of students to see me with the obvious bulge of a hard cock protruding from their teacher's trousers.

There was one more incident, also involving the same type of panties that I need to tell you about. It was a Saturday morning and I needed to run a few errands. First, I ran by the dry cleaners to pick up clothing I'd dropped off a few days before. I always took my favorite sweater to this particular dry cleaner because the service was good and the price was fair. I always liked the way I looked in this blue sweater because it went with everything I wore, plus it was very comfortable. The large and deep side pockets allowed me store small items I didn't wish to stuff into the pockets of my jeans.

But it was while I was at the hardware store and I was standing at the checkout counter, ready to pay for my purchases when I slid my right hand into the inner pocket of my jacket where I kept my wallet. Almost immediately, my hand came into contact with the soft touch of cloth. By now I knew what I would discover when I removed the cloth from my pocket, so, after making my way to my car, I removed yet again a third pair of the same purple-colored, see-through panties. And once again, Margie had left a note for me encased inside the panties, except this note asked "Why don't we put these where they belong?" Smiling at my wife's creativeness, I rushed home only to find that she too was out running errands. Sheila, however, was sitting at the kitchen table with the newspaper and a cup of coffee, when I entered the house. For the first time in since she'd moved in with Margie and myself, she wore a housecoat I'd not seen before. The coat was short, stopping halfway between her waist and knees. And Sheila seemed to have forgotten to close the four top buttons, revealing a line of cleavage I'd either never noticed before, or which had simply escaped my attention. As I entered the kitchen, Sheila rose from the table and met me halfway across the room, wrapping me in her arms and placing a warm kiss on my right cheek. I couldn't help but also notice the three-inch heels Sheila wore, the thin heels clicking loudly on the tiled kitchen floor. Sheila smelled faintly of some mysterious, yet appealing cologne, and I couldn't help but notice that while she held me close to her body, her bra-less tits pressed tightly against my chest. After Sheila stepped back away from me, she smiled at me as if there was a question she wished to ask. Seeing the obvious confusion on my face, Sheila, whose hands still rested on my arms, said, "You know, David, I sometimes forget to thank you, especially, for allowing me to stay at your home." She again extended her neck toward me and I again felt the warm touch of her lips on my cheek again. The mysterious aroma of her perfume drifted to my nostrils again and I found myself intrigued both by Sheila's perfume, but moreso by her actions. In the two years she'd lived with Margie and me, she'd never presented herself in this particular robe, nor had she worn this very alluring perfume. I found myself flustered, for some reason, and realized that despite my devotion to my wife, my cock was reacting to Sheila's perfume and appearance. I felt the unmistakable tightening of my dick in my trousers and knew then that Sheila's presence was getting to me. Just before I tried to step around Sheila to leave the room, she stepped in front of me and blocked my path of exit. My body collided with hers and although I didn't plan what happened, I couldn't prevent the lower half of my body from making contact with Sheila's robe-clad body and I couldn't be certain that she didn't intentionally lower her hand and place it over the growing bulge in my trousers. Because Sheila had placed her body between mine and the door, until I stepped around her, she had a full-handed, open-palmed grip on my cock. I froze in place, uncertain, really,what to do next, until Sheila smiled at me and as she stepped back to give me room to move, said, "Well, aren't you full of surprises?"

I left the kitchen as quickly as I could, but as I climbed the stairs and turned to look back toward the kitchen, I saw Sheila standing where she'd left me, a smile on her face, and, perhaps, another button opened on her robe. With my heart beating as fast as it did when I worked out, I climbed the stairs unsure of what had just happened. Was it my imagination, or had Sheila just attempted to seduce me? Did I dream that her robe was open enough to expose half of her gigantic tits? And had she intentionally placed her hand over my cock, perhaps knowing that her actions had caused the length of my dick to grow under my trousers? As I neared my bedroom, I decided every one of my suspicions about Sheila had no basis in fact and that every thought I'd had as I climbed the stairs had been just a part of my imagination. Still, there was a very hard cock under my trousers and despite whether or not I'd been imaging the whole incident between Sheila and myself, I needed satisfaction, and I needed it quick. But I decided I could wait for Margie to arrive home, and I knew that my lovely, sexy wife had just the right cure for a hard, needy cock.

Margie arrived less than ten minute later, rushing into our bedroom with a flurry of movement. I knew instantly that something had happened while she was out on her errands and when I asked, she breathlessly informed me that she'd received a call on her cell phone from her mother, and that her father was sick with some form of nasty virus requiring that he spend the next several days in the hospital. Because the drive upstate required at least four hours, Margie informed me that she needed to leave as soon as possible. Because I understood the tight emotional bond between Margie and her dad, I helped my wife pack her suitcase, then, while she made the last, final phone calls to work and other appointments she felt the need to cancel, I drove her car to the gas station and ensured the auto was ready for the long trip upstate. Because the day was somewhat cool, I grabbed a brown, leather jacket from the rack by the door and hurried to the gas station. I knew Margie would be eager to begin her trip as soon as possible. While I was away, Sheila assisted Margie in packing her bags and preparing for the trip.

I was standing at the gas pump, watching the digital numbers on the screen when, as most me do, I jammed my hands in my jacket pockets. I couldn't believe it when my hand touched a piece of cloth that I instinctively knew should not have been there. Even before I removed the cloth from my pocket, I knew exactly what I'd find in my hand. Yes, just as I suspected, I removed yet another pair of purple, see-through panties. And just as before, this pair of panties also came with a note, again neatly printed by a printer on a white, two-inch by three-inch card. I stuffed the panties back into the coat pocket but held the card up and read it while the gas flowed into Margie's car. "Do you like surprises?" was all the card said, and while I was saddened that Margie's dad was ill, I had to smile at my wife's ingenuity. I knew I couldn't bring up the topic of the panties now that she was preparing to visit her family, but I certainly planned to discuss this idea of hidden panties with my wife when she returned and was in the mood for sex. Ten minutes later, I returned home, and with Sheila's help, loaded Margie's bags into the trunk of her car. Sheila and I stood beside Margie's car and I hugged my wife before she entered the car. Margie kissed me on the mouth, after which she said, "I'll be back in two days, baby." She closed the door and together, Sheila and I watched Margie drive away. I stood with my hands in my coat pocket, the purple panties in my palm, out of Sheila's sight. When I turned to reenter the house, I noticed Sheila had already gone inside. I guessed she'd returned to her room.

The house was, indeed, quiet when I entered the foyer and asked myself what I would do now that Margie was gone and our plans for a movie and dinner had obviously changed. But as I went to hang my coat in the closet, I once again felt the presence of the panties in my hand. Now, I know my father-in-law was sick and that my wife was concerned about her father. But to be honest, the more I touched the panties and remembered that this was the third time Margie had enticed me with them, the harder my cock became while I was standing by the front closet. A quick glance through the kitchen and den confirmed my belief that Sheila had retired to her own room. A quick moment later, I was in my bedroom, the door closed, lying now on the bed with my cock in my hand. Well, that wasn't all that was in my hand. I'd taken the most recent pair of mystery panties from my coat and brought them with me to the bedroom. With my jeans pulled down to my knees and my seven-inch cock pointing directly at the ceiling, I wrapped my cock in both my fist and the purple panties. Forgive me, Margie, I said silently to myself as I began to pump my cock in the purple satin, the luxurious fabric stimulating every nerve in my dick. Up and down, my hand pumped away at my cock as I fantasized that it was Margie riding my cock rather than me jacking the shaft until I came. I imagined Margie's lips wrapped tightly around the shaft, her tightly-closed lips stimulating every nerve in my prick. I dreamed about winding my fingers through her long hair and pushing her head downward each time she took the shaft deeper into her mouth. I soon came, the flood of white crème flowing over my hand and the panties live white lava, running down my hand and wrist, soaking into the purple panties. I turned my head and moaned into my pillow, trying my best to not make any type of sound that might cause Sheila, if she was around, to not know what I was doing. When my short but sweet orgasm ended, I made my way to the bathroom and showered, washing the evidence of my self-satisfying journey down the drain. Wrapped only in a towel, I made my way across the bedroom to a set of drawers where I kept my underwear and t-shirts.

I was just about to remove a pair of underwear from the drawer when I saw just a glimpse of something out of place under one of my pairs of folded underwear. In an instant, I knew that I'd just discovered another pair of Margie's mystery panties. And as with each time before, there was a small card present. I turned the card over and read its message, which in this case seemed more secretive than the first three. "I hope these make you think of me, baby," was all the card said, again printed on a printer rather than being hand-written. That Margie, I said to myself: always on her toes. I stashed the panties back under my underwear and proceeded to get dressed. It was nearing late afternoon by this time, and I realized I'd had nothing to eat the entire day.

It was while I was dressing that an idea a came to me. Just after I'd slipped the blue sweater from the dry cleaner over my upper body, I decided that since Margie and I had had plans for dinner and a movie that we would now obviously be unable to attend, what would keep me from getting Sheila out of the house and the two of us having a friendly dinner and movie together? I mean, she was a great help around the house, and I hadn't canceled the dinner reservations. So, after getting dressed, I made my way barefooted back to the main part of the house, looking for Sheila. She was nowhere on the lower level, so I made my way up the stairs to her bedroom, my bare feet making hardly any sound at all on the wooden steps. I had developed this habit of whistling whenever I neared Sheila's floor in order to alert her that I was present in the even she was unclothed, or wished to not be disturbed. I stepped onto the floor where Sheila's bedroom lay, and noticed that her bedroom door was slightly opened. I knocked lightly, but received no response. It was then that I heard the shower running down the hall. So, Sheila must be in the bath, then, I told myself. Isn't that interesting.

Now, I'm not a man whom anyone would consider a pervert. I mean, I don't do weird things. But I couldn't stop myself from doing what happened next. I often found myself wondering what type of panties or bras a woman Sheila's age wore. I mean, she had shapely legs, and her ass was a bit broad, but it was by no means unattractive. So, with my curiosity guiding me, and recalling that Sheila enjoyed long showers, I darted quickly into her room and after a quick glance around the room, decided that the chest of drawers located along the wall must be where she kept her underwear. Two steps closed the distance between the chest and where I stood, and in an instant, I was looking down at an open drawer filled with an array of bras, panties, and other assorted items of lingerie. Looking back at the bedroom door now to ensure I could still hear the sound of running water, I also noticed my heart was racing, either from the fact that I was in Sheila's room invading her privacy, or from the fact that I was on the verge of stealing an item of her lingerie. Perhaps, my heart was racing for both reasons. Either way, I quickly snatched a pair of leopard-print panties from the drawer, stashed them in my pocket, and began to rummage around for one more item. When my hand made contact with a black, lace bra, I knew I'd tested my limits enough. The bra too went into my jeans pocket. I quickly closed the drawer, turned silently on my heel and left the room. I made my way down the steps as quietly as I'd come up them, making my way yet again to my bedroom.

Once I was in the seclusion of my bedroom, I laid the two items of stolen lingerie on my bed and inspected them. First, I held the leopard-print panties up to the light. Yes, they were wide and indicated that they covered a wide-assed woman. But knowing they covered Sheila's ass did something to me and once again, my cock began to grow. I turned the panties one way, then another, fantasizing about how they might conform to the shape of Sheila's ass. I noticed how thin the panties were, and wondered if someone could see through them and see Sheila's cunt hairs or not. Making sure my bedroom door was closed tightly, I raised the panties to my nose and inhaled the crotch. The scent was that of both laundry detergent as well as a faint muskiness, as if Sheila hadn't washed the panties well enough. That scent too drove my cock to become harder, but I quickly placed the garment on the bed and retrieved the black lace bra. Now, two massive lace cups filled my hands and I inspected the inside of each cup, knowing that Sheila's nipples rested inside them. I tried to imagine what Sheila's nipples night look like: were they extended when she was excited, protruding from each tit like a fleshy thimble? Or did Sheila have the type of nipples that barely made their presence known, rising just above each fleshy titty? I imagined Sheila placing the bra on her body each morning, lowering each massive tit into the cups, extending the black lace support strap around her body to clasp it in the rear. It was then that I glanced at my watch and saw that if I was going to ask Sheila to dinner and the movie, I better do so now. I stashed the bra and panties under the mattress and made my way back up the stairs, making sure my steps announced my presence as I neared Sheila's room. I discovered that in the time I'd been in my room inspecting Sheila's lingerie, she'd finished her shower. She was nowhere to be found, so I assumed she had to be downstairs.

I found Sheila sitting quietly in the living room. She was dressed in the same short robe as this morning, and her hair was wet from her shower. A forlorn, somewhat melancholy expression lay across her face as if she was sad about something. It was evident Sheila was resigned to spending another night alone in our home. I sat beside her on the small sofa and explained how Margie and I had had dinner plans, and that if Sheila had no plans, we might as well honor the reservation and have a nice meal and attend a movie afterward. Sheila's face lit up like a candle at the mention of spending the evening away from the house, and in a flash, she was standing in front of me now, the scent of her bath soap and shampoo strong in my nostrils. I explained that I planned to wear a pair of dressy jeans and a nice shirt, and recommended that Sheila dress comfortably but nice. Sheila quickly turned on her bare heels, but before she'd taken two steps, she suddenly wheeled back in my direction, wrapped me in her arms and embraced me in a tight hug. "Oh, Dave," she said as her heavy tits, barely concealed under the terry-cloth robe, pressed against my chest. "I can't believe we're going on a date!" The distance between Sheila's face and mine was but mere inches and to be honest, I was taken completely by surprise when she leaned forward and rather than kiss my cheek as was her usual custom, she instead placed her mouth on mine and gave me a quick kiss on my lips. But just as quickly as she'd pressed her lips onto mine, she turned and made her way out of the room, yelling over her shoulder that she needed twenty minutes to dress and prepare for the evening.

I had time to think about the quick kiss Sheila planted on my lips just before she left the room to dress for the evening. I also had time to think about the two items of her lingerie that remained hidden under my mattress. Now, in the time since Sheila had moved in with Margie and I, I'd never once thought of her in a sexual way. I questioned now where my thoughts were coming from, and why now, alone with her in the house and my wife miles away, I would be so bold, or perhaps so stupid, as to evade her privacy and steal personal items from her lingerie drawer. But I also couldn't help but think that at that very moment, Sheila was upstairs removing her robe and dressing for the evening. Would she wear a bra, I asked myself? What color panties did she plan to use to cover her ass, if she wore panties at all? What if she had decided to wear the leopard-print panties and black bra I'd stolen? Would she realize where they'd gone, that I'd snuck into her room and stolen the items? A river of thoughts and questions ran through my brain as I waited for Sheila to return and I was certain that at any moment, Sheila would storm back into the living room and confront me about the missing items of lingerie. But just as Sheila promised, she entered the living room right at the twenty minute mark dressed in a coal-black blouse with a deep gash in the front which exposed an impressive line of cleavage. There was no way Sheila could miss the way my eyes rose in astonishment at the way she presented herself: I mean, she wasn't trashy looking, but, rather, classy in a casual sort of way. She'd chosen a pair of dressy jeans, as I had, but a pair of three inch heels graced her feet, the spike heels supporting her weight. "Well, how do I look?" Sheila asked, spinning her body to the right on the stiletto heels. "Do I look like a respectable old lady?"

"Old lady?" I asked, still astonished at the wonderful and exciting yet almost immediate transformation I was witnessing before me. I mean, Sheila seemed to be an entirely different woman. Suddenly she was confident, sure of herself, and, I must add, quite attractive with just the right amount of makeup. "Sheila, you are anything but an old woman," I said, stepping toward her and placing my hand on hers to show her I was being honest about how I saw her appearance. To be honest, though, I couldn't take my eyes from the front of Sheila's blouse: the two nipple protrusions made it clear that she'd chosen not to wear a bra. In an instant, the memory of me stealing her bra earlier that afternoon while she showered entered my mind and I knew that if I stared at her tits much longer, Sheila would see a protrusion coming from my body, most notably directly below my belt where my hard cock was at that very instant beginning to react to Sheila's appearance. You can't be thinking about Sheila this way, Dave, I told myself: she's our guest. Besides, my inner voice reminded me, she's sixty years old and you're twenty-eight. Get ahold of yourself, Dave, I said to myself. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I mumbled something about needing to be on our way and escorted Sheila to my car. We arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes later. Along the way, Sheila thanked me time after time for getting her out of the house, and how appreciative she was for what I was doing. Many times, Sheila stated that she wasn't sure she could find a way to repay me for my kindness. When we arrived at the restaurant, Sheila hooked her arm in mine and we entered the establishment appearing, I'm sure, as if we were mother and son.

Dinner was wonderful. The food was excellent, but the wine was better. In fact, Sheila and I lingered so long over coffee and desert that it was close to the movie's showtime by the time we finished our meal. And we still had a twenty minute drive to the theatre which meant we'd probably miss the beginning of the film. Sheila came to my rescue when she suggested that rather than rush to the theatre, why don't we just walk along the quiet city streets and take in the displays in the shop windows. I liked the idea and so, with Sheila's arm once again linked in mine, we strolled the quiet streets, window-shopping and chatting about how life had treated each of us. After an hour, I suggested we find a bar and have a glass of wine but Sheila seemed to have other ideas. "I like the idea of a glass of wine, Dave, but let's go home and have it," she said, a sudden, mysterious glint in her eyes. "I've come up with a way I can repay you for such a wonderful evening." Sheila quickly shot down my protests about not having to repay me, and with her arm still linked in mine and her stiletto heels clicking lightly on the sidewalk, we made our way to my car and headed home. Along the way, every now and then, Sheila stressed some point she was making by resting her left hand on my right thigh. Her touch was warm through my trousers, but I also noticed she never left her hand for too long on my leg. She'd make her point, then remove her hand shortly thereafter. We soon arrived at my house and as soon as the garage door closed behind the car, Sheila announced that she'd meet me in the living room, and that it was my job to prepare the wine. In a flash, Sheila was out of the car and disappearing through the door that led to the kitchen. Finding the mystery of what Sheila had planned for the remainder of the evening quite appealing, I did as the sixty year old woman instructed, opened a bottle of wine, and with two glasses in my hands, returned to the living room. I took my seat on a small loveseat located near the fireplace and waited for Sheila to return.

I hadn't been waiting very long when Sheila entered the room. Nothing had changed in her appearance, although I did detect a stronger scent of her perfume. I poured two glasses of wine and Sheila sat beside me on the loveseat. We chatted quietly for several moments before Sheila stood, the wineglass still in her hand, and announced that I was to follow her. Intrigued, I followed my sixty-year old houseguest up the stairs to the level she'd occupied for two years now. Walking behind her, I couldn't help but stare at her ass, and wondering how the leopard-print panties I'd stolen from her earlier that afternoon might appear if she wore them, stretching across the wide expanse of her ass. But now that I was this close to her ass, I had to admit it was somewhat shapely. And then, we were on the level Sheila occupied in my house. When it suddenly dawned on me that Sheila and I were heading for her bedroom, my heart began to race. When we arrived at her bedroom door, Sheila stopped, and turned to face me. "Dave, I've come up with a way to repay you for your kindness and hospitality this evening," she said, her voice somewhat low as we stood in the doorway. "And so, you need to follow me and just let me do this because I feel so grateful for all you've done for me since I moved into this house." With her wine glass in one hand, and my hand in the other, Sheila led me through the door and into her bed chamber. Needless to say, I was amazed at what I saw when I entered the room.

When Sheila moved in years ago, Margie and I decided to give her the largest room on that floor. It was a suite, actually, with wide rooms and a private bath. As Sheila led me across the room, I noticed nothing out of the ordinary, except for a long, brown-leather masseuse table set up at the end of the bed covered by two white sheets. I'd had no idea that Sheila was trained as a masseuse because the topic had never come up in any of our discussions. But there it was, alongside a smaller, shorter table covered with bottles of what had to be a variety of massage oils. We arrived at the long table and Sheila turned to face me. "I can see by the surprised expression on your face that you did not know I am a certified masseuse, Dave," she said, as she moved between myself and the table. "And this is how I plan to thank you for the wonderful dinner and evening so far." Sheila took me by the hand and led me to the long masseuse table. Two towels lay folded on top the table. Sheila pointed to the towels and said, "Now what I want you to do is to remove your clothes, lie on the table, and cover your lower body with one of the towels. While you're doing that, I'll be in the bathroom getting a few things." I began to protest but Sheila quieted me by placing her index finger on my lips and saying, "Dave, please do as I say. It will make me happy to be able to do something for you for once." Once Sheila knew she had my attention, she pointed to the long leather table and said, "Once you're ready, lie on the table chest-down with your face in the small open pillow there on the end. Any questions, Dave?" When I remained silent, Sheila turned on her high heels and entered the bathroom, gently closing the door behind her.

By now, my heart was racing faster than it had when I'd been in Sheila's room earlier and stolen her bra and panties. I knew there was no way to receive a massage with my clothes on, but finally, after much deliberation, I did as Sheila instructed and removed my shirt and pants. A pair of white, cotton briefs followed and suddenly, I was naked by the masseuse table. Because I could hear Sheila moving about in the bath room, I wrapped one of the white towels around my waist. But I didn't lie face-down on the table as Sheila had instructed me to. No, instead, I lifted my ass and sat on the table, my legs dangling over the edge, my mid-section covered by one of the towels. I hadn't been unclothed very long when the bathroom door opened and Sheila emerged, a bottle of oil in each hand.

It wasn't the oil in Sheila's hand that caught my attention, however. No, it was the vision of a sixty year old woman, her long white hair flowing behind her, who had removed her jeans but still wore the same, front-opened black blouse and high heels she'd worn to dinner. The closer Sheila came to where I sat on the leather-covered table, the better view I had of her body and, especially the long line of cleavage now prominent in the front of her open shirt. I couldn't help but stare at the two huge titties now clearly jiggling under her blouse, the stiletto heels she wore causing her tits to rise and fall in a seductive manner. As before, two small but obvious protrusions indicated the location of Sheila's nipples. The shirt hung very low down the front of Sheila's body, preventing me from being able to determine whether or not this sixty year old woman was wearing panties of not. Finally, Sheila stood before me, her body pressed against my naked knees, and she stared at me for several long seconds. Sheila placed the two bottles of oil on the small table, then with her hands on my shoulders, guided me to a face-down position on the masseuse table. "I'm glad to be able to do this for you, Dave," I heard Sheila say above me, my face pressed firmly into the pillow. I made sure to cover my naked ass with the towel that had kept my cock from Sheila's view as I swiveled my body to the prone position.

From where I lay upon the table, I could see Sheila's high-heeled feet each time she neared that end of the masseuse table. The sight of her feet encased in high heels followed by what I now realized were two shapely legs caused my cock to stir, but I did my best to ensure that my shaft remained as limp as possible. "I know you're asking yourself why I removed my jeans, Dave. Well, it's just that these oils sometimes splash and I didn't want to ruin another pair of pants as I have in the past. I hope you don't mind." I shook my head without removing it from the head support and mumbled loud enough for Sheila to hear that no, it was perfectly fine with me that she'd decided to dress comfortably for the massage. "Good, now that that's settled, let's begin," she said.

I've had massages before, but I have to say here and now that the way Sheila laid her hands on me caused me to instantly relax. Although I couldn't see her, I could hear Sheila shaking one of the bottles of oil followed immediately by the pressure of her warm hands on my feet. Slowly and intently, Sheila massaged the oil into my naked skin, working her way upward, across each calf, then, finally, the back of my thigh. I felt myself relaxing, but I knew that the closer Sheila came to my towel-covered ass, the greater the possibility that she'd be able to see under the towel and view the underside of my ball sack. I was in the middle of deciding whether or not I should pull the towel down to cover more of my ass when I felt Sheila's warm, oil-covered hands massage the inside of my thigh. I jumped slightly, which caused the towel to rise a few inches toward my waist, exposing a small portion of my ass. "Oops, seems like we have a problem here, Dave," Sheila said behind me. To my relief, I felt her tug the towel downward to its original position, my ass cheeks now concealed from view.

But the problem really didn't stop there. Sheila continued to fill her hands with the warming oil and to rub the soothing fluid into the skin just back from my ball sack. Each time her fingers traveled inside my inner thighs, my cock reacted by becoming stiffer and longer. Knowing Sheila had a clear view of everything I did, I reached under my body, grasped my almost completely hard cock by the shaft, and pushed on the dick until it was now wedged between my legs, the shaft in absolute clear view and with easy reach of Sheila's oiled hands. By this time, I'd committed myself to letting Sheila see my cock, if that was what she wanted. If she didn't, then there would be no harm done. I mean, she was a sixty year old woman, after all, and since she claimed to be a trained masseuse, then I was certain my cock would not the first she'd seen while rubbing her oily hands across a man's body.

And so, here I was with a cock growing harder by the moment, and a sixty year old, white-haired woman wearing nothing but an open blouse and high heels rubbing soothing oils into my inner thighs. It was then I decided to conduct an experiment. I became intently focused on not only pushing my cock into view between my legs so that it was in plain view, but also that when Sheila looked at my cock, she would see a dick that was hard because of the physical touch she was applying to my body. Each time her oily fingers caressed the inside of my thighs and came near my ball sack and hard cock, I began to lift my ass several inches. It became important that I feel Sheila's fingers slide across my cock, the massage oil coating the shaft while I lay on my stomach. I didn't have to wait long.

Just as I felt Sheila's fingers slide along the inside of my leg, I raised my ass and suddenly felt her fingertips slide along the top three inches of my hard cock. Her fingers pressed against the hard flesh of my prick, but then left as suddenly as they had appeared. I moaned softly to let Sheila know I'd felt her finger slide along the top portion of my cock, but she made no sound in return. Instead, she applied more oil to her hand and placed them on the same sensitive spot inside my thighs. And just as I'd done only seconds before, I lifted my ass again to expose my cock, and once more, Sheila's fingers touched my cock, but only the top three inches. And then, her hand was gone.

I felt Sheila step away from the table and suddenly, the fear that the massage had come to an end entered my mind. I didn't want Sheila to cease what he was doing to me, and although we hadn't really spoken since she'd started applying soothing massage oils into my skin, there was no doubt in my mind that Sheila knew the effect she was having on me. She knew I had a hard cock because she'd touched it, had slid her oily fingertips along at least a part of the shaft. But while I was certain she could not only feel but also see my hard cock, because my head was still braced in the open-faced pillow, I had no true idea how she felt. It was then that I heard her say, "It seems rather warm in here, I think." And with that, Sheila stepped back to the table and recommenced applying the oils to my backside. And each time her hand neared my cock, I raised my ass and Sheila responded by gently touching the shaft of my dick, yet making no acknowledgement that her hand had touched me.

Sheila changed her location at that point and now stood at my head while she reached across my shoulders and rubbed oil into my upper back. With my head still in a downward position, and my eyes focused on the wooden floor beneath me, it was then that I noticed something, however. Despite Sheila wearing high heels, I was still able to see the bottom hem of her blouse. Sometime between when she'd started the massage and now, she'd opened every button on the shirt. As she bent over my body, the hem of the shirt moved one way and then another until it was finally fully open and I was then able to see that Sheila had at some time unknown to me, removed her panties. Perhaps she'd done so when she made that comment about the temperature being so warm in the room. But there in front of me, each time Sheila extended her body over mine to apply oils to my mid-back, each time the hem of her blouse rose, I was afforded with a clear view of her pussy. Because the head brace kept my head in a fixed, unmovable position, there was no way I couldn't help but stare at Sheila's cunt. But what amazed me most of all of what I was seeing was that the thick mat of cunt hair that covered Sheila's cunt was almost coal black in color, in direct contrast to the beautiful white-grey hair that covered her head. I raised my head in sudden recognition of what I was seeing, only to stare for several long seconds into Sheila's eyes. The silence in the room was overwhelming as Sheila and I exchanged knowing looks. But neither she nor I spoke, and instead, this sixty year old woman simply placed her right hand on my head and gently guided my head downward until my face once again rested in the leather pillow.

Two things happened almost simultaneously in the next several seconds. First, my cock became harder than it had been all evening since the massage began. Because the position of my cock being wedged under my body had grown more painful, I slid my right hand under my body and repositioned my cock until it pressed against my lower body. But just as soon as I placed my hand beside my head, I felt Sheila pressing something soft into my fist. Quickly turning my head, I saw the same pair of purple, see-through panties that I'd been discovering in various pieces of my wardrobe for several days now. It was then that the realization that it was Sheila, and not my wife Margie, who'd been planting the panties in my pockets entered my mind. Once again, I quickly raised my head to find Sheila staring intently at me. And once again, as she had before, she pressed my head downward until my face rested in the leather pillow. Suddenly, I felt Sheila's warm breath by my right ear, and heard her say, "Whatever you're thinking, baby, we can discuss it later."

The good thing about receiving a massage is that it never is restricted to only one side of the body. Sheila bent low again and whispered into my ear that it was time for me to roll onto my back. But I had a problem: If I followed Sheila's instructions and rolled onto my backside, then there was no way she would not notice my very hard cock. Yes, she'd run her fingers along the upper length of the shaft several times, but I really had no idea whether or not her actions had been intentional or not. And just because she'd pressed a pair of her panties into my hand didn't necessarily mean that she wanted to fuck me. Perhaps I was being naïve, but I had no intention of upsetting Sheila. I solved the dilemma by grasping the towel still draped around my lower waist and slowly rotating my body until the back of my head rested in the leather brace and my eyes were focused on the ceiling. By this time, Sheila had returned to the end of the table and was applying oils to the front side of my lower legs.

I knew that eventually Sheila's hands would reach the area where the towel covered my hard cock. I raised my head a few inches to look at my lower body and saw what I feared I would see. There under the towel was not a bulge indicating I had a hard prick, but rather, a sharp point, the tip of my towel-covered cock now pointing at the ceiling at an almost perfect vertical angle. There was no mistaking that my cock was at maximum hardness, and that Sheila's hands had been the cause. And now, her hands were massaging the oils into the area no more than two inches from the edge of the towel. Closer now, Sheila's hands continued to travel upward until her fingertips slipped under the towel. And because she'd opened her short to allow cool air to enter, I was able to see the curvature of her massive tits, the two huge melons jiggling like two bowls of gelatin with each move she made.

And then, Sheila's hand touched my cock, and I reacted by jumping slightly, causing the towel to fall away from my body. As the towel fell away to fall into a heap on the floor by Sheila's high-heeled feet, my sixty-year old masseuse suddenly stood and stared at the cock that now stood at strict attention like a well-trained soldier. I had no idea what Sheila would do next and for what seemed an eternity, she simply stared at my cock without touching it or applying more oils to my skin. After a long, quiet interval, Sheila stood erect, turned her head to look at me, then quietly removed her blouse. The huge titties hung from her chest, and the nipples I'd been seeing only a suggestion of since the evening began now came into full view. Each pink nipple extended from Sheila's tits like a fleshy thimble, hard, stiff, and in my mind, begging to be sucked. Below her waist, the thick mat of cunt hair framed her pussy, and although she had a small paunch around her stomach, to me, Sheila was as sexy as any woman I'd ever seen in my life.

But this night was full of surprises and I was amazed to see Sheila apply more oils to her hands and return to rubbing the liquids into the pores of my skin. I noticed, however, that she avoided the area around my cock, the tube still hard and still pointing at the ceiling. Sheila had he back turned to me, facing toward my feet now, and it was then that I caught the first true vision of her ass. Yes, it was wide, but the muscles on each ass cheek didn't jiggle wildly. No, it was easy to tell that Sheila's ass was firm. I guess at some time during the massage, she'd placed her oily hands on her ass: I could see an oily handprint on each ass cheek, and that sight served to cause my cock to stiffen even more, despite my belief that my cock could not become any harder. I focused on Sheila's ass, but if I turned my head slightly to the left, I could make out the round bulge of her left tit, the orb bouncing each time Sheila bent over my naked legs and applied oil to my skin.

Now, Sheila's hands applied oils to my lower stomach, and then the mid-chest area. But with each new application of oil, Sheila would turn her head to stare at my hard cock, as if she either couldn't believe I would gain an erection, or perhaps because it had been a long time since she'd been this close to a stiff, hard, eager to be fucked cock. She'd just poured a small pool of oil into her right hand when she suddenly turned away from me, and for what seemed an eternity, stared at my hard, upright cock. Finally, Sheila turned to me, and I saw her entire naked body. By this time, both Sheila and I realized we were naked and alone in her bedroom. And we both realized that my cock was hard, and that I was eager to have Sheila perform her magic on my shaft.

"Dave, tell me honestly: do you know how old I am?" she asked. When I nodded my head to show my houseguest that I did, indeed, know how old she was, Sheila asked yet another question. "And are you aware that I am more than twice your age?" Another nod to signal that yes, I was aware that Sheila was sixty years old while I had not yet reached the age of thirty. And then, after turning her head and taking another long stare at my cock, Sheila pointed at my cock with her right index finger and asked, "Did I cause this?" My voice was a whisper as I said yes, it was Sheila who had caused my cock to grow stiff, that yes, it was this beautiful, natural, sexy woman who had stimulated me to the point that my cock reacted in a manner that signaled to everyone near that if my dick had a voice it would be screaming at that very instant. Sheila turned away from me then, her back to me, her white-grey hair covering her back, her legs, naked ass, and high-heeled feet still in my view.

I've had women suck my cock before, and I've always loved the sensation of a pair of lips wrapped tightly around the shaft of my hard prick, sliding up and down the length of my dick. But when Sheila lowered her head, opened her mouth and swallowed the entire length of my cock, I felt every sexual fiber in my body come alive. And I was equally amazed at how wet the inside of Sheila's mouth was. In one consistent move, Sheila had gone from simply staring at my dick to having the entire length of my cock buried in her mouth. She'd made no sound before bending over my body and grasping my cock between her lips, had given me no indication that she intended to suck my cock. But here she was now, her incredibly wet mouth taking in every inch of my dick, and her lips wrapped so tightly around my dick that the pressure her lips applied to the shaft reminded me of a young, tight pussy.

And then, Sheila began to provide me with the best blowjob I've had in my entire life. Up and down, her head traveled the length of my cock while her right hand cradled my ball sack. I guess because she was an experienced cocksucker, Sheila knew to slide her left hand up my oily chest until she found my nipples, as erect and tight as the nipples from her own chest that she now pressed firmly against my right leg. My body was being sexually stimulated from three erogenous zones, and while having my balls caressed and my nipples stroked was pleasurable, the sensations flowing from my cock overpowered everything else Sheila was doing to me at that time. I extended my right hand forward to brush away several strands of her beautiful hair that had fallen across her face and now concealed my view of Sheila raising and lowering her head to take in my cock. It was then that I focused on Sheila's face and saw a determined woman, a woman driven by sexual passion, a woman who would not be deterred in taking every micrometer of my twenty-eight year old cock into her sixty year old mouth. Faster now, Sheila's hair began to fall about her face in a blur, and she assisted me in maintaining a clear view of her tightly-wrapped lips by shoving a mass of her hair over the right side of her head. Now, there were no obstructions to watching Sheila drink in my hard cock, and because of her cock-sucking actions, I began to lift my ass upwards to match Sheila's downward motions.

That was also the same time that I extended my hand and began to caress Sheila's ass. She assisted me by spreading her legs slightly, and I was rewarded for my efforts when three fingers from my right hand slid easily into her cunt. It seemed that Sheila's mouth was not the only body part that was extremely wet. In a flash, all three fingers were buried between Sheila's cunt lips, and while I won't tell you that her cunt was tight, I can report that there was a distinct amount of pressure as I pushed my hand deeper into Sheila's hairy pussy. While Sheila took my cock in and out of her mouth, I matched her head movements with the same hand in and out movement. Each time Sheila's head lowered and the full length of my cock disappeared between her luscious lips, I pushed my hand forward and the fingers slid into her cunt until all three knuckles were buried in her warm, moist pussy. I also matched the speed with which Sheila sucked my cock. If she slid my cock between her lips, I copied her action and rammed my fingers between her cunt lips. If she slowed her movements in an effort to tease me, I did the same with my hand. Sheila quickly caught on to the motion-for-motion game and we suddenly began to play a game of silent cock sucking and pussy fingering for the next several moments.

But Sheila and I could remain silent for only so long. "Oh, fuck, Sheila," I moaned as Sheila drew my dick deeply into her mouth. Because her mouth was full of cock, Sheila was unable to form words of pleasure, but the moans escaping her lips proved to me that my fingers were doing an effective job of stimulating her cunt. For one short instant, I withdrew my hand from her sixty year old pussy, but only for the amount of time needed to slide a fourth finger beside the other, now soaking wet fingers and slide the entire finger sandwich back between her hairy cunt lips. Sheila moaned loudly, but her lips remained wrapped like a glove around my cock. It was then that she lifted her left leg, placed her knee on the leather masseuse table, and I was provided with a wide open view of Sheila's black hair covered pussy being invaded by my fingers. Shelia's high heel pointed at me much the same as my cock had pointed at the ceiling. Seeing and feeling this sixty year old woman sucking my cock suddenly had an effect on me I'd not expected: I suddenly became determined to fuck Sheila, to ram my cock deep between her cunt lips, to make love to her and to ravage her body. By now, my hand was almost completely buried in her pussy, and while I was thoroughly enjoying finger-fucking this old woman, I wanted more. I wanted to experience my hard, stiff cock sliding between the pussy lips of a sixty year old woman, and I wanted it now.

You know, there's an old saying about great minds thinking alike. Perhaps Sheila was able to read my mind and she knew then just as I did that the time had come to fuck. Perhaps her ability to sense what I was thinking came from being with men across her years. Perhaps she just knew that she'd sucked my cock long enough and had prepared it for entry into her ripe old pussy. Or maybe she too wanted to fuck a twenty-eight year old man and she determined that the time had finally come where she would change positions and ride my cock until we both came. My fingers left her cunt as Sheila lowered her left leg to the floor and she raised her body until she stood beside me. I was happy now, because I knew the time had come for me to experience my first older woman, happy that in just a matter of seconds, the cock that seemed to have been hard and stiff all day was close to sliding between Sheila's pussy lips.

But that's not exactly what happened next. The one thing I'd forgotten about was the pair of soft, purple panties still in my hand from earlier when Sheila had stuffed them inside my fist. Giggling softly as she leaned across my body, as her massive tits glided across my skin and the nipples stimulated every pore I owned, Sheila removed the panties from my hand, making sure to drag them sensuously across my naked chest and down my lower torso until she held my cock in her right hand, and the panties in her left hand. When Sheila looked at me now and smiled, I realized I'd never seen a more beautiful, sexy, and desirable woman. Her white-grey hair hung low from her head, framing her face, illuminating her green eyes as we once again locked eyes in a silent, visual embrace. "I know how much you enjoyed the mystery panties, Dave," Sheila said, her right hand slowly pumping my cock. "And now that we have a pair here, I have an idea I'm sure you'll enjoy." Sheila removed the panties from her left hand and draped the soft, silky material over the head of my cock, the fabric forming a purple-tinted tent. Although the soft material covered my entire cock, the fabric was so sheer that I had no problem seeing the shaft of my prick. Sheila took her time now, her closed fist wrapped around the long shaft, and began to slide her hand from the tip of my prick to the base. Each time her warm hand slid downward, the panties pressed against the sensitive nerves located on the side of my cock. And each time she eased the pressure and slid her hand upward, the panties responded by allowing just the smallest gap between the sixty year old woman's hand, the silken fabric, and the hard, erect skin of my dick. Then, the process repeated all over again as Sheila slid her hand downward again and the sensual fabric once more sent sexual shivers throughout my body.

"Dear god, Sheila," I moaned, the uniqueness of the sexual situation overtaking me and causing me to near orgasm. "Yes, baby, yes," I moaned louder now, amazed that a sixty year old woman still had the talent to excite a man, particularly a man less than half her age. "You have no idea how good that feels, Sheila," I cried, knowing that if Sheila continued her panty-hand fucking on my cock that I would explode in orgasm, and I knew that when I came, not only would the sexual eruption be of tremendous force, but that the amount of hot, white crème I spewed over Sheila's hand would be massive s well. "Oh, fuck, Sheila," I moaned, "baby, I am so close to coming." I raised my head slightly to watch Sheila as she continued to pump my panty-covered cock, raising my ass with her hand movements. I wanted to come, and I wanted to come as soon as possible.

But as I said, Sheila was a woman of considerable sexual talent, and, it turned out, sexual imagination as well. "Oh, you want to come, do you, baby?" she cooed. "Well, then let's see if this helps you come, then." Sheila removed her right hand from my purple-panty covered dick, but kept her left hand wrapped tightly around the base, her grip keeping the panties from riding up and off my cock. "Tell me what you think of this, baby," Sheila cooed. Once again, she positioned her head over the tip of my cock and with her mouth wide open, lowered her chin until three inches of panty-covered cock rested between her lips. And once again, I felt the sensual sensation of the interior of her very wet, very moist mouth. I don't know how Sheila kept her mouth so wet while she sucked my cock, but really, what did it matter? Down, down, down her head dropped, the panties disappearing between her lips, until her chin rested just at the base of my cock. I began to speak, but Sheila quickly stifled my words by placing her full hand against my lips. I wasn't sure why she would prevent me from moaning in pleasure until I heard the sound, soft at first, but clearly audible, as Sheila's head began to rise and fall rapidly now, her hair once again flaying about her head, her lips wrapped tightly on my cock, the purple panties serving as a silken condom. And each time Sheila's head rose or fell, her tits rocked against my naked thighs, the huge, massive, fleshy orbs pressed tightly against my hairy legs.

At first, I thought the sound I heard was Sheila moaning as she drew my cock deeply into her mouth. It seemed that the sound occurred each time this beautiful, white-haired older woman lowered her head and took every inch of my cock into her mouth. And although I was now deeper into the sexual act and closer to orgasm, I realized that whatever the sound was, it wasn't a moan. As I continued to raise my ass each time Sheila sucked my cock deeper into her mouth, at first I suspected the sound came from the sheets under my naked ass sliding around on the leather surface beneath my body. But I soon discovered that that suspicion too was incorrect. Finally, it dawned on me what was causing the sound. Each time Sheila lowered her head to draw more of my cock between her lips, because she was able to produce an excessive amount of saliva, each time her lips slid downward, she created a sort of squeaking sound as her lips slid across the very expensive but now completely soaked silk fabric. "Oh, baby, speed up," I begged as I placed my hand on the back of her head, my fingers disappearing in her hair. By this time, I was lifting my ass so far above the masseuse's table that I created a loud pounding sound as the weight of my body tested the limits of how much of a physical beating the narrow table could take. To her credit, Sheila held on, never once losing her oral grip on my panty-enclosed cock. Just another few seconds, I told myself, just another few seconds.

But once again, Sheila's sexual experience overrode my sexual desires. She was suddenly standing over me, her tits swaying from her chest, her right hand still gripped tightly around my cock. "You like the panties, don't you, honey?" she asked, although she and I both knew the answer to her question. After I nodded to her, Sheila leaned over my chest and kissed me, deeply, erotically, sexually, as her tongue explored the inner caverns of my mouth, as her tits pressed firmly against my naked chest. I felt Sheila lifting her body upward and suddenly felt her straddling me now, leaning forward, still maintaining the kiss, still pressing her tits and nipples into my body, the leather of her three inch high heels pressed against my outer legs. Suddenly, Sheila broke the kiss, sat up, and with that same sly smile she'd displayed several times before, lifted and rotated her body until she was still straddling me but now facing away from me. From where I lay on my back, I could see that, yes, Sheila's ass was indeed broad, but truly sexy as hell. I don't know why the thought came to me, but I remember thinking that her husband missed out on one hell of a deal if he never fucked the ass that was now positioned only inches from the tip of my cock. I noticed then just how long Sheila's beautiful hair really was, how it hung down her back in waves, how the white tint accentuated her tan. She wants me to fuck her ass, I thought to myself: well, then, aren't I in for a treat?

But Sheila had no intention of letting me slide my cock into her asshole. In total amazement, I saw the tips of her fingers slide between her legs, grasp my panty-clad cock in her hand and position the tip of my dick against the entrance of her pussy. She can't be thinking what I think she's thinking I said to myself, convinced that Sheila planned to slide her pussy over my purple-panty covered cock. But Sheila so far had been a series of one surprise after another, and when she did lower her ass, I felt the tip of my cock pressing the silk panties against her old cunt lips, felt the sensation of her pussy juices beginning to soak the panties more than they already were. The purple silk fabric was stretched taut over my cockhead, the combination of a hot cunt and silk stimulating my sexual nerves from several different sources and just as many different levels.

So, the answer to my question was, well, yes Sheila did intend to use the purple panties as a sort of condom, as a rich, luxurious sheath for my cock as it slid between her pussy lips. And she was eager, too. Sheila had been positioned over my cock now no more than five or ten seconds when she turned her head to speak over her right shoulder. She shook her head and the grey-white hair fell away from her body, now giving me a clear view of her face. Sheila's face was flushed with sexual desire, yes, but more than that was the way her eyes stared at mine. "Here we go, baby," she said quietly, as she increased the pressure she applied to the tip of my cock. Her ass dropped and with just a minimal amount of effort on her part, three inches of panty-covered cock slid between her cunt lips and into the wettest pussy my dick had ever had the privilege of slipping between. I mean, Sheila's mouth had been excessively wet when she first drew my cock into her mouth, but now, with my dick firmly embedded in her cunt, there was no doubt in my mind that the two cunt lips my dick rested between were the wettest in my life. Another downward push, and two more inches of cock entered Sheila's sixty year old pussy. "Oh, shit," I heard Sheila say between almost clenched teeth. "Oh Dave, honey, you have no idea how this feels," Sheila moaned, although I was certain she wasn't telling me that taking a cock into her pussy that was covered in silk was painful. No, the way she exhaled then inhaled and pressed her cunt down, down, down until every inch of my cock lay inside her pussy indicated to me that Sheila was enjoying this unorthodox manner of fucking as much as I was.

The view from where I lay was amazing, to say the least. Here I was, looking down my naked chest to a point where my cock had literally disappeared inside Sheila's cunt, and the outer edges of a pair of purple panties protruding from between her hairy cunt lips. In addition to that scene, there was also the sight of Sheila's wide ass, her hands now on each ass cheek, spreading the cheeks wide to make more room for my cock and the panties. Sheila lifted her body now, slowly at first, the silk panties remaining in place by the pressure Sheila used to clench her cunt lips tightly around my cock. Slowly, ever so slowly, Sheila's cunt released inch after inch of my cock. When she reached the tip of my prick, she surprised me by suddenly slamming her ass downward as the entire length of my dick slid easily into her pussy. "Oh, hell, yes, here we go, honey, here we fucking go!" Sheila screamed as she began to ride my cock as if she were perched upon a small pony. Up and down, Sheila's cunt swallowed my cock with every downward thrust while each upward movement allowed almost the entire length of my panty-clad dick to emerge from her pussy. And just as quickly as Sheila raised her ass, she plunged it downward again, the entire length of my cock disappearing once more into her warm, sixty-year old cunt. "It's been too long, baby, too damn long," Sheila moaned over her shoulder now as the speed which her ass rose and fell increased. Sheila threw her head backward, her long white hair cascading over her back and caressing my lower stomach area.

Each time Sheila raised or lowered her cunt, I thrust my cock upward, hoping to make sure Sheila's pussy was never in need of a hard dick. She responded by spreading her ass cheeks wider, a move that allowed more of the panties to slip from around my cock. After a few more thrusts, the panties slipped away altogether, yet the fabric remained wedged between the shaft of my cock and the sides of Sheila's pussy. By now, the nerve endings in my cock had reached the limit of how much they could stand before causing me to erupt in orgasm, but somehow, I was able to delay coming, somehow able to prevent my cock from spewing what I knew was going to be an incredible amount of come.

"Fuck me, Dave, baby, yes, fuck me!" Sheila moaned as the both of us realized that we were nearing orgasm together. I didn't know if Sheila wanted me to wait for her to come, or if she preferred that we come together, if possible. And that was probably why she suddenly stopped fucking my cock, lifted her ass until my cock slipped from the warm security of her pussy, and rotated her body again until she was now hovering over me. Sheila slid her hands between her legs and I felt her remove the panties from her cunt before laying the expensive garment beside my head. The scent of her cunt drifted from the panties to my nose, the aroma of sex and pussy juices driving me closer and closer to coming inside Sheila's cunt. Sheila next lowered her cunt downward again and I felt the familiar sensation of my cock being taken inside a pussy. This wasn't just any pussy, however; No, this pussy belonged to a sixty year old woman. And it was that woman who was hell-bent and determined to suck my cock into her cunt until it exploded in orgasm. Once again, Sheila and I communicated silently, as she suddenly lifted her ass from my cock, stepped down from the masseuse table, and with her massage and cunt juice covered hands, rolled me toward her until I too stood, barefoot, beside the table. Sheila pointed back to the narrow table with her index finger, a sign she wanted to return to the slim platform where so far, I'd enjoyed her old pussy a great deal. Sheila stepped around me, her large titties caressing my body as she passed by me, and climbed up and into the table, on her hands and knees now, her massive tits hanging below her chest, the pointed nipples sliding along the crumpled sheets barely covering the leather covered table. Sheila looked over her shoulder, her white hair framing her beautiful face and asked, "What are you waiting for, Dave?"

I didn't need to be asked twice. In one smooth movement, I climbed upon the table and positioned myself behind Sheila's wide, lovely ass. Holding my cock with both hands, I guided the tip of the dick into Sheila's warm pussy, the sensation now familiar, the pressure applied by her sixty-year old cunt lips warm and pleasant. Driving forward now, my cock disappeared into Sheila's pussy as I mounted her from behind. Faster and faster, I pumped at this old woman's cunt while she pushed back, the two of us in a sexual bent-knee dance that we knew would result in the one thing we'd been working for the entire evening. "Goddamn, Sheila, you are one good fuck," I said as my upper thighs slammed loudly into Sheila's ass cheeks. "Yes, baby, I want to come in your cunt," I said. Sheila mumbled something about her being ready, and that was the signal I'd been waiting for. Pumping faster now, each forward movement caused Sheila's body to inch closer and closer to the edge of the masseuse table. But Sheila held on, her grip on the edge of the table like iron, as I slammed away at her pussy from behind.

It's not often that my wife, Margie, and I come together. Usually, whenever Margie and I exploded in a simultaneous sexual eruption, it was more the result of just freak timing than anything else. But you have to remember that at this time, I was fucking a sixty year old woman who not only knew a thing or two about fucking, but who also knew the tell-tale signs of when a man is close to coming in her cunt. Sheila extended her left hand between her legs, found my cock, and positioned her fingers so that each time my dick slid in or out of her cunt, the entire shaft was stimulated as it slid across her open palm. I leaned forward and kissed Sheila's naked shoulders while also wrapping my arms around her back and grasping one massive titty in each hand. "Oh, yes, honey, squeeze my tits," Sheila moaned as I began to pinch and squeeze each long nipple. "Baby, I want to come, now," Sheila suddenly said, just before her entire body became tense and I felt her cunt lips tighten around the shaft of my cock. "Oh, honey, I hope you're ready because I'm coming now," Sheila moaned. And just as suddenly, the incredible woman I was fucking began to scream, loudly, almost incoherently, the sounds escaping her mouth in a combination of moans, grunts, words, and screams. I could tell, as Sheila's body erupted in orgasm that it had been some time since her last cock-caused orgasm, because the sexual tremors speeding across her body seemed to last an eternity. She lifted her head, and although her mouth was formed in the shape of an "O," very little sound escaped. That is, until enough of a supply of seizures had built up inside her cunt that she was no longer able to prevent herself from screaming.

"OH, YOU MOTHERFUCKER! YES, YOU BASTARD! FUCK ME, DAVE, BABY, FUCK ME!" Sheila's entire body was one flurry of motion now, her legs shaking as she attempted to push back onto my cock with as much force as I was driving forward into her pussy. "GIVE IT TO ME, COCKSUCKER! GIVE ME YOUR COCK!" On and on and on, I drove into Sheila's sixty year old body with all the force I could muster, all the driving power I could find as my own orgasm snuck up on me and I suddenly began to unleash load after load of white, hot crème into my houseguest's cunt.

‘FUCK, YES, SHEILA, FUCK YES!" I cried out, as I straightened my body but held onto two sizable chunks of Sheila's broad ass with my sweat-filled hands. "I'M FUCKING YOU, BABY...AND I'M COMING TOO!" Sheila suddenly dropped her shoulders to the masseuse table, a move that altered the angle of her cunt which allowed me to drive faster and deeper into her pussy. "FEEL MY COCK, SHEILA, BECAUSE HERE I COME!" I knew that by now, I'd filled Sheila's pussy with more come than I'd ever shot into my wife's cunt, but yet, more seemed to be coming. I couldn't stop the orgasm I was experiencing, but then, why would I? And I couldn't believe the amount of come continuing to erupt from the tip of my dick. But finally, the orgasm began to subside, and when I finally bent over Sheila's back again, I could tell that her orgasm too had ended. But I was exhausted, and I bent my body over Sheila's back, my nipples pressed into her skin. Sheila's breath came in ragged gasps now, as did mine, and for several long moments, all I could do was to lay upon the woman who had seduced me through the use of mystery panties and try to slow the beating of my heart.

The room was quiet now that neither Sheila nor I was filling the room with our moans and cries. I felt Sheila shift her body under me, rotating until she lay on her back and I hovered over her. I looked down at Sheila's sexually exhausted body. Her tits and upper body were flushed red from stimulation, her nipples still extended. Sheila stared at me before lifting both arms and locking her wrists around my neck. She pressed her lips against mine and slipped her tongue between my lips, her kiss sensual, erotic, warm and moist. When the kiss ended, I stared at Sheila, so many obvious questions filling my mind. Sheila sensed my questions, extended her right arm and caressed my cheek.

"I guess I should explain the deal with the panties, yes, Dave?" Sheila asked. I shook my head and before Sheila continued, she let out a small laugh. "It's like this, baby. You've been nothing but wonderful to me since I moved in here. Not once have you asked anything of me. And you've been as kind as you have been patient." Sheila wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me down to her for another long, sensuous kiss. Her tongue darted between my lips again, and below my waist, although I'd just released a load of come into Sheila's sixty year old pussy, I felt my cock coming to life again. Sheila explained that about three months ago, she'd seen me emerge from the shower and since that moment, she'd laid awake many nights fingering her clit and fantasizing about she and I finding our way to her bed. "I tried to seduce you in an indirect way with the purple panties, but all I ever saw you do with them was to stash them in your pocket." We shared a laugh at her comment before she rolled out from under me and we crawled from the masseuse table to her wide bed. Despite the wild fuck session Sheila and I had just participated in, she still wore her heels, the thin tips clicking seductively on the room's floor boards.

"So, when the move with the panties failed, I was certain I'd lost the opportunity to bring you here to my bedroom. That is, before today when everything seemed to fall into place and now, well, here we are." Sheila gave me another sly smile before suddenly rising from the bed, extending her right hand to me and saying, simply, "Now, follow me, there's something else I want to show you." I followed, and together, this sexy, vibrant, sixty year old woman led my by the hand down the flight of stairs to my bedroom. She indicated with her finger that I should sit on the far corner of the bed, on the same side where my wife slept. In silence, I watched as Sheila made her way to my side of the bed, rummaged under the mattress, and removed the same black bra and leopard-print panties I'd stashed under the mattress earlier this afternoon. I felt embarrassed that Sheila obviously knew the pieces of lingerie were there, but even more embarrassed now that she knew what I'd done with her underwear. For a long moment, Sheila held the panties and bra in her hand, then stepped back from the bed. With the panties in both hands, Sheila bent at the waist, lifted her right foot, and pulled the panties midway up her right calf. She repeated the process with the left leg until she'd shimmied her wide ass back and forth enough to pull the thin garment over her ass cheeks. Next, she placed the bra in her hand and placed her enormous tit package into the black lace cups until the nipples disappeared from sight. When she finished adjusting the bra straps, she lifted her left leg and placed her high-heeled foot on the bed. "Now that you've soiled my underwear, Dave," she said, "I expect you to come and remove these garments from my body."

In a flash, I was across the room and tearing madly at the bra and panties until Sheila and I were again naked on my bed, my cock slamming away at her cunt, and we were once again engaged in a series of exciting and uncommon sexual acts. Each time I exploded in Sheila's cunt, I reminded myself just how fortunate I was to have an older woman as a houseguest.

Yes, very fortunate indeed.