I've learned as much about myself during this journey as I have about others. And one important thing I learned was that despite being only thirty-two years old, over the course of my life I'd had a hidden desire for older women. The trip so far had placed me in the position of being with several women senior to me in years, and each occasion had been more enjoyable than I ever could have hoped for. And each older woman taught me something, some form of a life's lesson I know I'll never forget. Read about my exploits in past chapters and you'll see exactly what I mean.
Although I was on a bus with other passengers, I had to admit to myself that riding along and watching the scenery pass by without having to chat with anyone was relaxing in so many ways. The hum of the big tires on the pavement seemed to lull me into a trance, one where I not only thought about the most recent - and seemingly tragic - events in my life, but also the many experiences I'd had before I married Amy. My mind began to wander as each mile between Flagstaff and Amarillo slipped away. There were thoughts of my college days where I'd made so many life-long friends, some whom I hoped to see in Chicago, at the end of this journey. I recalled how I'd paid my way through school working at bookstores and supermarkets. There was even a stint as a bartender in a restaurant which might have been the very job that caused me to become a writer. I recall standing behind the mahogany surface, a glass or towel in either hand, listening to the tales - too often tales of woe and pain - of the customers, and hoping that somehow, they'd find their way to living a pleasant and happy life. I think now of all the jobs I had that helped me work my way through college, it was serving other people drinks and spending time with them that broadened my own way of thinking and looking at the world. Across the miles of this bus journey, other events in my memory came and went, and fortunately for me, most of the memories were those which I was happy to recall.
As you know if you've been keeping up with my tales so far, this journey has provided me with an education in many, many ways. There's been the self-appraisal where I asked myself what it was my ex-wife Amy did not see in me. What was it that caused her to tell me that she simply did not love me anymore? I knew I might never know the answer to that question. It had been Rosie the older waitress who not only taught me a few life lessons, but who also had brought to the surface my desires to have sex with an older woman. It was while her massive-sized tits flopped above me as she rode my cock that I realized that despite being only thirty-two years old, fucking older women was a sexual practice that I greatly enjoyed. As the bus rolled on, I napped, remembering the older women I'd met so far.
I never made it to Amarillo. At least, not on this leg of my journey. For no particular reason, when the bus pulled into the small depot at Endee, New Mexico, I decided I'd had enough riding and wanted to explore the area. Deciding to have lunch at the small bus depot café, I learned from the old grizzled cook that the town of Endee had at one time been famous for its connection to the cattle business. "Oh, this town has one hell of a history, son," the old man said as he leaned across the counter. "Back in the 1880s, cowboys and cattle rustlers would come into town and have one hell of a time!" He went on to say that each year, Endee held the annual Rustler's Ball, an event that brought the small village back to life, especially now that Route 66 was being redirected away from the area. "It's something to see, mister, I tell you it really is." I learned that the only motel in town, named the Moonrise Motel, always had plenty of rooms and offered good service. "As a matter of fact, we're having the Rustler's Ball tomorrow night. You should stay for it," the cook advised. Thanking the old cook, I set out for the short, half-mile walk into town. The large number of cars passing cars was a reminder that the town was, indeed, holding a special event. I was looking forward to spending the night in a comfortable bed as I finally reached the town limits.
My heart sank as I rounded the corner to finally find the Moonrise Motel. So many cars filled the parking lot that it seemed as if every auto in New Mexico had arrived at once. But I needed a room now that the bus had departed, so I forged ahead, hoping good fortune would come my way. As I approached the building, I noticed that it seemed rather large for such a small town but reminded myself that at one time, it had sat on one of America's busiest highways. Off to one end sat an addition to the building that did not seem to be part of the hotel. A sign outside the door of the addition simply read, "bar."
The scene inside the motel office was even more chaotic than outside. Guests were pushing each other, the small room was crowded, and the air conditioning seemed not to work. An older woman stood behind the bar frantically writing down the guests information on a yellow legal pad. Everyone wanted a room and they wanted them now. I watched for a moment while the woman shifted her attention from one loud guest to another, and I realized that unless someone came to her assistance, a riot might break out. Quickly discarding my backpack, I stepped behind the counter with her, as she shot me a cautious sideways glance. She seemed to relax, however, when I began to record the guest's information on a similar pad. For the next ten minutes, the woman and I recorded the guest's data, doing our best to make sure each guest was calmed and registered.
From time to time, I glanced sideways to assess how the woman was doing in registering this mob of guests. Standing no more than two feet from me, and with our arms and bodies making occasional contact, I couldn't help but note how she was dressed. I immediately surmised she was at least fifty years old by the thick white hair covering her head. When she turned to look my way, ice-blue eyes stared at me, but also seemed to be silently thanking me for the unplanned assistance I was providing. A tight-fitting, body-hugging and short-sleeved white neckless shirt covered her upper torso, and each time she moved her arm to record a guest's information, the jingle-jangle sound of large silver bracelets filled the room. She was dressed in a blue-green tartan-patterned skirt, black stockings or pantyhose covered her legs, and she'd enclosed her feet in white leather, three-inch stiletto heel pumps. All in all, she reminded me of a housewife from the 1950s.
But if there was one article of dress the woman wore that didn't resemble anything from the 1950s was her blouse. It was not only form-fitting, it was also exceedingly revealing. Perhaps she hadn't had time to wear a sweater or something over the blouse before the flood of guests arrived, but the front of the shirt dipped so low that at least four inches of meaty, tit-splitting cleavage was exposed to view. Several of the men who were registering stared openly at the woman's tits, but if she noticed their leers, she didn't show it. There simply wasn't time with the crowd growing as it did.
But each time she reached across my body to remove a room key from a small hook, either one or both of her tits made contact with my arm. Remember: this was an old motel on an almost all but forgotten stretch of highway used by very few drivers anymore. There were none of the newer, modern conveyances such as magnetic strip, credit card-sized room keys. No, the Moonrise Motel was strictly a throwback, and it still lived in the past. So, each time the woman extended her arm in my direction, because we were jammed into this small space, it was inevitable that her tits made contact with me. Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but there just wasn't time to enjoy this unplanned but semi-erotic touch of her tits on my arm. I'm not sure how I did it, but there was one instance when she extended her body sideways and as I glanced down quickly to see what she was doing, I judged her to have at least a 38dd chest. But there was actually little time for judging titties because there was still a substantial number of guests in the motel lobby with more seemingly coming by the hour. On and on and on, the woman and I recorded their information and sent them on their way. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the crowd disappeared and the motel lobby stood empty. The woman and I turned to each other, welcoming the silence, but knowing we each had some explaining to do.
"Mister, I don't know who you are, but I know I owe you a great deal of thanks." She extended her right hand in welcome gratitude and introduced herself as Rena. "That's pronounced REE-NAH," she said as she stared at me. It was clear she had no idea how or why I'd suddenly come to be at the Moon Rise Motel, but it was just as clear that she was grateful I'd appeared just when I did. "Well, I'm certainly glad to meet you, Steve," she said as she turned to look out the door at the huge number of cars moving about the parking lot. "We're having our annual Rustler's Ball here in Endee," she explained, further adding, "and wouldn't you know it, not only did everyone show up at the same time, but my computers crashed just minutes before they started piling into my office." That explained the large number of people in the office when I arrived but I sensed something else was bothering Rena. "On top of that, Eddie, my regular bartender, decided to quit this morning. Without an experienced bartender," Rena explained, "I'll lose more than half my profits. And if I can't open the bar, no one will want to come back next year." It was obvious that Rena was in a fix, but I knew that once again, I could help her. When I informed her that I had worked as a bartender to help pay my way through college, the expression on Rena's face was one of wanting to ask me if I'd work her bar, but it was also clear she was hesitating to say the words. Without making her ask, I told her I'd be glad to tend her bar, but I too had my own dilemma of my own. "Well, now it's my turn to rescue you, Steve," Rena said. Pointing to a sofa located at the end of the room, Rena offered to let me spend the night there if I'd agree to tend bar for her. "Tonight's especially important, Steve," she said. "The ball is tonight and everyone dresses in old cowboy clothes. Our bar plays the part of an old west saloon, complete with dancing girls and everything!" While Rena waited for my response, she added, "And I even have a costume for you: You'll fit perfectly in the old-style clothes." Intrigued, I assured Rena she had a deal, and that I was eager to help her. "That's great, Steve," she said, extending her neck forward and planting her lips, heavily covered with lipstick, on my left cheek. "We have a dance show where four of my friends and I dress as saloon girls you won't want to miss."
Taking me by the hand, Rena escorted me into the bar and explained the evening's activities. It was all very simple, really: I was asked only to pour drinks and to keep patrons from behind the bar. We spent the afternoon making sure there was enough alcohol before Rena excused herself just before five o'clock to dress for the evening. Once again, as she placed still heavy covered lips on my cheek, she said, "You've saved me, Steve." Drawing back with her hands resting on my shoulders, she stared deeply into my eyes and said, "I promise I'll find a better way than the sofa to repay you." With that, Rena excused herself and disappeared into a small apartment located between the bar and the registration desk. I stepped into the storage room, discarded my clothes, and stepped into the old-time bartender costume Rena asked me to war for the evening's festivities. Half an hour later, the bar doors opened as a rush of men and women flooded into the bar, each man dressed as a cattle rustler, and the women dressed in a wide variety of costumes ranging from dancehall girl to a well-dressed woman of the 1880s. Overall, the crowd was calm as they set about going back in time. Although I kept looking for her, I didn't see Rena for the next hour.
It was then, as I was refilling a drink, that I heard a loud roar from the crowd, coming from the far back of the room. Suddenly, four women, each at least fifty years old, and whom I'd never seen before rushed into the room and made their way to the dancefloor as the crowd cleared a path for them. Each woman had her hair arranged in a tight bun atop their heads, although two of the dancers had allowed strands of hair to cascade down the sides of their heads. Each woman's face was caked in thick makeup, their eyes lined with heavy and wide lines of mascara, their cheeks covered with bright red rouge, and their lips standing out like bright red clams from the heavy layers of lipstick they'd applied. But it was what everyone saw below their necks that drew the crowd's most focused attention. Each woman had to have had a set of 44dd tits, the huge melons doing everything but popping out from the tight fitting bustiers. Large expanses of white flesh lifted upward toward their chins, the melons wavering like great-sized bowls of gelatin as they began their dance routine. The bustiers were cinched so tightly around their waists that I was certain at least one of them would pass out from a lack of oxygen. The hems of the sexy garments were trimmed with black satin, next leading downward to short expanses of bare thigh flesh, the remainder of their legs covered in black stockings. High heeled booties completed the ensemble as they smiled at each other and performed a routine that was certainly based on sex more than it was on entertainment. Each woman cavorted about the stage, one holding the other's waist or teasing the crowd by thrusting their hands at a co-dancer's mountainous tits before actually backing away and not making any physical contact at all. That didn't stop their hands from traveling, however. No, there was so much ass-grabbing going on I was certain some of the men were on the verge of jumping onto the platform with the women and assisting them in filling their hands with either large tits, shapely ass cheeks, or both. The women finally broke out into a routine where they linked arms, and performed the same dance steps in a line, the crowd loving everything they did. The little dance troupe continued their routines for two more dances before the room suddenly fell almost completely dark as the dancers formed a small circle on the dance floor. From where I stood behind the bar, I realized that every person standing at the bar had turned away from me and was now watching the four older dancers. Evidently something exciting was coming. Off to my right, I heard a male voice say, "Oh, hell yes. I've been waiting a whole year for this."
On the dance floor, the four dancers had come together, their arms wrapped tightly around each other to form a closely constructed circle. It was clear to me that the dancers were shielding something from the crowd's view, but what it was, I had no idea. "This is where it gets good," I heard the same male voice on my right say. Another male voice then: "This is the only reason I came." Each of the older women dancers smiled at each other as one dipped her chain and said something inside the circle. It was then, that the woman closest to me lifted her chin to the ceiling, and yelled out, "NOW!" And that was when all hell seemed to break loose.
Each of the dancers suddenly sprang backward, their arms lifted and outstretched, the smiles on their faces wide and gleaming. As each woman moved backward, their massive titties jiggled wildly, again testing the bustier's ability to hold the mammoth mountains in and not reveal their nipples. Their ass cheeks jiggled as well, the back hem of the bustier rising and falling with the high-legged kicks each dancer now performed. Because the crowd before me was standing, it was impossible for me to see what the dancers had been hiding, but as if by fate, the crowd parted, and although my line of sight toward the dancefloor was narrow, there was no mistaking now what, or rather, who, the dancers had been squeezing between their well-shaped bodies and incredibly large tits.
As if she were a phoenix rising from the ashes of a great fire, it was Rena who arose from a squatting position between he friends, each arm covered in elbow-length black velvet gloves, stretched high above her head. Like her friends, Rena too was dressed in a bustier, but rather than it being red in color, Rena's bustier was purple, trimmed with black lace. Like her friends, Rena too wore stockings, but hers were fishnet style, clinging to her tanned legs as if they'd been painted onto her skin. And like her friends, Rena too wore the high-heeled, short black boots that covered her feet and allowed her to dance about the floor. I don't know if anyone was asking me for a drink at that particular moment: I was so lost in this unexpected sight of Rena that I was unable to hear anything anyone might have been saying to me.
And I'd like to say that my eyes continued this visual assessment of Rena's body, but I'd be telling less than the truth if I did. No, my eyes found it impossible to look away from Rena's tits. Like her friends, Rena's tits were massive, and it was then I realized that although I'd been close enough to touch Rena's melons several times before, I'd never fully looked at them. I had no idea that Rena possessed such a large set of tits, but I can say here that I was not disappointed in the fact that her titties were actually larger than I originally estimated. As if she was reading my mind, Rena turned and stared through the crowd at me, and I felt my heart leap. Perhaps Rena was simply looking in my direction and not directly at me, but it didn't matter. I wanted to believe she was staring at me, that she'd directed her attention specifically on me in grateful recognition of all I'd done for her since my recent arrival. I wanted to believe Rena was looking my way as a way of thanking me, and, possibly, sending me some telepathic message that there would be other ways of showing her gratitude. Someone handed her a shot glass filled with whisky: To my surprise, Rena drained the glass in one forceful gulp, the backward thrust of her head causing her white hair to flitter behind her. She returned the now empty glass to its owner, stared at me again, then winked her right eye. Suddenly, the music shifted from some ragtime sort of tune to a softer, slower pace. Rena had everyone's attention now, and she knew it.
Gracefully and slowly, Rena traced a path down her left arm with the glove-covered index finger of her right hand. The only sounds in the room was the music coming from the speakers and a few, quiet conversations from several groups around me. Perhaps the crowd was as amazed at Rena's performance as I was: Perhaps they'd seen it before at earlier Rustler's Balls and knew what to expect. Or, quite possibly, they were amazed at her appearance. I had no idea of the body under Rena's clothes when we'd stood so closely together while re registered the motel guests. Now, with her half-clothed, it was all I could do to look away. Rena continued to caress her glove-covered arm, the simple move transfixing the crowd into silence. She had the crowd where she wanted them and I just knew she would milk this performance for everything it was worth. As the four dancers stepped back and gave her the floor, the music turned again from soft and easy to a New Orleans bump and grind. Oh no, I said to myself: this is gonna get interesting.
Slowly, Rena began to swivel her hips in a circular motion, the black lacy tassels swinging in time with this amazing older woman's body movements. Each time Rena's hips went forward, her tits went with her, jiggling and moving as if they were waves upon the ocean. If I was the only man in the room who didn't have at least the beginnings of a hard cock stirring in his pants, then that meant there were plenty of men who had no sexual desire at all. Allowing myself one quick, side glance about the room, I saw several women, including each of the previous dancers, licking their lips, or squinting their eyes as if they desired Rena, as if thoughts of fucking her danced as vividly through their head as the same visions roared through mine. Again, someone handed Rena a shot glass filled with whisky, and again, she drained the amber-colored liquor with a powerful, forceful, rear-facing movement of her head. This time, however, Rena simply dropped the glass to the floor, then kicked it with her toe to the edge of the dancefloor. To my disappointment, however, Rena turned away from me, but because she did, I was now afforded an unobstructed view of her shapely ass, something I hadn't seen when she wore the skirt earlier in the afternoon.
It was when Rena bent forward at the waist and grasped her shoes with her hands that my heart came close to stopping. Because the shift in her body position had been so extreme - going from standing to bending - the hem of her bustier in the rear rose two inches to expose the naked curvature of her right ass cheek. That's it, my brain said to me: I'm a goner.
With Rena facing away from me now, my eyes as wide as dinner plates, I stared in wide-eyed wonder as her ass began to jiggle from side to side. Surely she knew she had the crowd exactly where she wanted them - or me - and she continued to milk her performance for all it was worth. She grasped each ankle in her glove-covered hands and slowly began to rise, her hands maintaining constant contact with her legs, the black velvet covering her hands sliding smoothly up each stocking-covered limb. From my position behind Rena, a distance really of no more than fifteen feet, I felt as if I was close enough to extend my arm and place my now sweating hand upon her ass. Dear god, I said to myself: Does Rena have any idea of the effect she's having, if not on the crowd, then on me? For several more moments, the crowd cheered Rena on, and the older woman allowed herself to fall into the applause and the cheering.
It was just when Rena stood up again and waved her glove-covered arms in the air that the original female dancers rejoined her on the small dancefloor. As the associate dancers made their way to where Rena stood, rather than accept another shot glass filled with whisky from a bystander, she instead accepted a silver flask, the contents surely filled with alcohol. The man who'd provided Rena with the flask said something to her to which Rena responded by turning her head to face him and saying something I was unable to hear. Then, to the cheers of the crowd, Rena placed the flask to her red-painted lips, tilted her head backward, and for several long seconds, drank from the thin, silver container, her throat gulping the whisky in several long gulps. It was then that Rena did something that had the entire crowd cheering: just as she removed the flask from her mouth, she slipped it between her tits, the silver container squeezed between her enormous tits. Rena hadn't capped the flask, meaning that every move of her body caused some small amount of the whisky to ooze over the edge and onto her mammoth titties. Rena glanced at the gentleman who'd provided her with the flask, grasped him by the back of his head, and pushed his face between her melons, his mouth securely around the flask's opening. Rena jiggled her body from side to side, causing the crowd to cheer even louder. The man finally stood erect, the flask held securely between his lips. When he removed the flask from his mouth, Rena again grasped him by the head and planted her red lipstick-covered lips against the unknown man's mouth. Rena didn't seem to notice that the man had planted his left hand firmly on her right titty. Once again, the crowd roared its approval as Rena's dancers once more took their places beside her.
Rena and her dancers immediately linked arms and launched into a can-can style dance, kicking their heels high above their heads, swinging their asses left and right, their massive titties jiggling like great, huge bowls of gelatin. Although it was difficult to do so, I averted my eyes momentarily away from Rena to watch the other dancers, particularly the one dancing to Rena's immediate left. Like Rena, her hair was also grey - or, rather, snow white - and she seemed lost in the erotic actions she was performing for the cheering crowd. It was when she lifted her head backwards, opened her mouth, and let out a loud "whoop," sound which caused the crowd to cheer even louder. Perhaps it was her excessive degree of body movement, or perhaps it was because the outfit she wore was so tight. Either way, when she lifted her head and began to make the sound again, as she arched her back, her right tit, massive, mammoth, and amazingly large, left the confines of the bustier's bra cup and suddenly emerged in full sight. There was no mistaking the sight of a fully extended, blood-gorged, and erotically stimulated nipple, the fleshy bud extending a full inch or more. The sight of that nipple caused a temporary silence as the crowd realized what had happened. Everyone, except for the dancers, stopped their motion, and all stared, some even pointing at the flopping titty as it continued to flay about the woman's upper chest.
Now, under any other circumstances, I would have expected the show to end at that point, would have expected the woman whose tit was now in full view to grasp the melon and attempt to retuck it into her sexy costume. But that's not what happened. When she heard the crowd grow silent, then come to life again as they realized they were witnessing an unplanned semi-strip show, the roar of their approval caused Rena to glance to her dance partner. It was then Rena realized the cause of the crowd's uproar. Glancing about the room, Rena calmly turned to her left, lifted her right hand, and in full view of the now high-charged crowd, cupped her friend's huge titty in her hand and slipped it back inside the bra cup. For that one instant, the crowd stood amazed, silent in complete awe at this seemingly but highly erotic act. As if on cue, the entire crowd cheered again as several men took up a chant of "Do it again, do it again!" The gentleman who'd earlier offered Rena the flask appeared again, and as she'd done as well, Rena took another long drain from the metal container, the warm liquid surely coating the inside of her throat.
By now, the time was growing late, well past midnight, and I recalled Rena explaining to me that county laws required the ending of the sale of alcoholic beverages at one o'clock in the morning. A glance at my watch showed me there was less than five minutes to go before I had to shut down the bar. But if I thought the night was over in terms of entertainment, I was wrong. The crowd suddenly parted again, as if an invisible wedge were being forced between them, and the five older women, with Rena leading the way, made their way through the crowd and to the bar. Along the way, each of the older women were grabbed at and pawed by the men - and a few women as well - but neither of the dancers made any effort whatsoever to remove the hands and fingers that grabbed at and clamped down on their tits, asses, or, in Rena's case, her pussy. Again, drinks were offered, not just to Rena, but to her fellow dancers as well. And again, each of the whisky glasses were emptied, drained of their contents by five older, sexily-dressed women who exuded nothing but pure, erotic lust. The five women arrived at the bar, and to my complete surprise, each came to the back of the bar, their faces covered not just with thickly applied makeup, but also with a thin sheen of perspiration. Using a small ladder I'd seen standing in the corner of the small space, each woman used the steps to ascend to the bar. In an instant, I was staring upward at five of the shapeliest asses I'd ever seen, each ass no more than twelve inches away.
Rena raised her hands for silence, the upward lifting of her gloved arms causing her tits to move upward as well. Once again, the crowd grew silent as Rena explained that the bar and the festivities would come to an end in five minutes, after the final performance of the evening. Turning her head sideways and downward to look at me, I couldn't help but notice that Rena's face, her half-concealed chest, and her legs were coated with a thin layer of perspiration. By now, the mascara lining her eyes had started to run as several small but distinctive black trails of the makeup began to move downward from her eyes. Rena's chest lifted and dropped as a result of the exertion she'd paced her body through, but the expression on her face resembled anything but exhaustion. A smile creased her lips, again showing me two rows of brilliantly white teeth. Thinking quickly, I filled five shot glasses with whisky and lifted them upward to each waiting dancer who graciously and thankfully accepted the glass containers. The drinks were gone in an instant as the final moments of the evening ticked away. Just after handing me her whisky glass, Rena bent forward at the waist, her massive tits close enough for me to see in great detail, and said, "Here we go, baby. You're going to love this!" One again linking her arms into those of her fellow dancers, Rena and her four dancing partners worked their way into a dance routine that drew the crowd to its feet. Looking up, I realized that despite standing behind the dancers, I was actually located in the best place in the bar to witness this final performance of the evening.
You see, from where I stood, I was exposed - or, perhaps a better word would be "treated" - to the sight of five of the shapeliest asses I've ever had the privilege of looking at. Yes, each ass I alternated directing my eyes to was well over sixty years of age. But as you now know, I've come to see older women as treasures, so there was no way I was going to stop staring. Each of the dancers, particularly Rena, jigged their asses in such a manner that made me feel glad I was standing behind the bar and only the top half of my body was in view to anyone who might have looked. Because if anyone had taken the time to look below the bar, they'd have seen me standing there with a bulge in my trousers that did nothing but give it away that I had one of the strongest hardons I'd ever experienced in my life. I turned my head from side to side, watching those asses gyrate before me, close enough for me to extend either - or both - of my hands and grasp one firmly in my now sweating palms. But I resisted the urge, the overall intense sexual desire, to manhandle the dancers. Just stay behind the bar, Steve, I said to myself, and no one will know the effect these older women are having on you.
But as you also know, plans don't always go the way we'd like them to. Just as I was certain the music was coming to an end, just as Rena and her partners finished a high-kicking set of steps, as their high heels pounded the wooden bar, each dancer suddenly lifted their bodies upward, spun before they landed, and now faced toward me, their flimsily covered ass cheeks facing the crowd for one last time. Each dancer bent forward at the waist, the movement causing a collection of five sets of the biggest tits I'd ever been exposed to at one time to dangle now just inches from my face. Sweat dripped from their faces and chins, the clear perspiration forming into small streams that flowed downward into their massive and lengthy cleavages, or to drip into small puddles on the bar surface. Because Rena was the pivot person, because two dancers performed on either side of her, it was her body that was closest to mine. A scent of physical exertion caused by the amazing display I'd been witness to swept over me, and rather than repulse me, I found the aroma of five women perspiring together only added to the sexual stimulation now washing over me. As I stared openly - and, I'm sure, hungrily - at each set of jiggling, low-hanging tits, as I ravished with my eyes those ten amazing, stocking-clad legs, I knew that I would have to seek some form of sexual release after the bar closed for the evening. It did not affect me to the least that I knew I'd jackoff later that evening: hell, I was doing the best I could there behind the bar not yanking my extremely hard cock from my trousers and giving the old women a show of their own. Starting to my right, I smiled individually at each of the dancers, thanking them with my eyes, offering a silent "thank you," with my lips, letting them know that they had, indeed, made this night a memorable one for this visitor to their small town. Down the line I went, smiling, and offering my thanks, going past Rena, who smiled back and mouthed the words, "You're welcome," before I continued down the line to the last woman in line.
Finally, the music ended, and each of the ladies, still perched upon the bar, turned to the crowd and thanked them for coming. There were calls for an encore, of course, but Rena thanked the crowd, and reminded them that the bar was now officially closed, as per local laws. Surprisingly, no one voiced their disproval, particularly the men, several of whom I was sure had the goal of returning to their rooms with their wives or girlfriends as soon as possible. The idea of becoming sexually satisfied after this amazing performance was in the air and it pervaded every corner of the room. Several men and women made their way to the bar to thank Rena and her friends, and while she accepted their thanks, each of the other four dancers offered me their hands in an effort to assist them down off the bar and onto the floor behind the bar. As each lady placed her hand in mine, for several seconds I was exposed to their nearly naked humongous tits, and the question entered my mind of where Rena had come up with so many large-tittied women. It was inevitable, then, as I assisted them, that their partially covered titties made contact with my body, a form of physical contact I did not resent in any way. As each woman descended to the floor, they each gave me a kiss on the cheek, their lips still thickly covered with lipstick, their cheeks still spotted with matching red-colored rouge. Each of the dancers left the bar area as the few remaining patrons escorted them out. Rena and I were absolutely alone in the smoke-filled bar now, the sudden silence enveloping me as I stood waiting patiently for Rena to offer her hand and allow me to assist her safely from the elevated surface. While I waited for Rena to allow me to assist her down from the bar, I opened a beer, the cool, refreshing beverage coating my extremely dry throat. I swigged half the beer in one full gulp, relishing the cold sensation, and glad the evening had come to an end.
Rena, in the meantime, was still facing away from me and seemed to be adjusting something on the front of her bustier. And as before, I was treated to the sight of her shapely ass, barely covered now by the bustier, and those magnificent legs wrapped in black fishnet stockings. Rena finally turned and looked down at me. Silently, she offered her hand as I placed the half-empty beer bottle I'd been drinking from on the bar beside her high-heeled feet. Rena took my hand and began to shift her body downward in an effort to climb down from the bar.
One of the many lessons I've learned on this journey of self-exploration is to expect nothing, but to also be surprised at the many lessons I've learned about people. I've learned no one is exactly the same as anyone else, that we're all unique in our own way. But I've also learned to enjoy the unexpected events that happen in our lives, often with no warning. So as Rena took my hand in hers and began to step downward from the bar, I don't know if it was coincidence or not if what happened next was planned, but I do know that in the end, it would become one of the most memorable events in my life.
Rena extended her right leg downward to step onto the small ladder each of the other ladies had used to climb down from the bar and onto the floor. As she stepped downward, her left hand still held securely in mine, she suddenly stopped her downward motion, and sat her barely covered ass upon the bar. Looking at me through her mascara-smeared eyes, Rena allowed a small breath of air to escape her heavily covered lips and said, "Well, I'm glad that's over!" I extended my hand and offered this beautiful, older, and certainly very sexy lady another shot glass filled with brown whisky. Rena placed the small glass to her lips, smiled over the rim, and again emptied the glass in one quick gulp. "Oh, that's good, baby," she said. as I removed the glass from her glove-covered hands. "Damn, that's good." When she returned the glass to me, I saw bright red lipstick coating the rim where Rena's lips had been. I extended my hand to sit the now empty glass on the bar, but Rena stopped me.
"Oh no, you don't!" she said as she intercepted my move with her gloved hand. "Give me that bottle!" Following her demand, I gave Rena the now almost empty bottle of whisky and watched as she filled the glass with the amber-colored liquid. When it was full, she extended her arm and offered - actually, she ordered - me to drink. "You've done an excellent job, tonight, Steve," she said. "Here, have a drink on me."
Now I didn't have the slightest clue if Rena was intoxicated or not, but she certainly seemed aware of where she was. Yet, I was surprised to see her hands were wobbling a bit as I reached for the shot glass. Perhaps she was drunk from the several shots of straight whisky she'd had, or maybe there was something else causing her hands to tremble. For one fleeting second, a question crossed my mind: could she be nervous because she wants to fuck me? I mean, since we'd entered the bar earlier in the evening, her entire performance had been based on sex. Each of the other four dancers exuded the same level of lust and portrayed loose women from the past. What thoughts were cruising through Rena's head at that moment as we sat mere inches apart in the quiet of the bar? Especially after she'd had nothing but several shots of whisky in the last half-hour.
As the fingers of my right hand wrapped around the glass, Rena's left hand made contact with mine, the black velvet gently caressing my fingers as she wrapped her hand tightly around mine. With Rena's hand still enveloping mine, I brought the glass upward to drink from it, but was stopped just as the glass made contact with my lips. "I have an idea," Rena said as she remained sitting on the bar but leaned forward at the waist. The shift in body position caused her tits to press against my arm, a sensation that my cock did not miss. But it was the presence of Rena's head, her face still covered with the thick mascara, lipstick, and rouge that caused my heart to beat faster. With the glass now touching my lips, Rena tipped it slowly so that the whisky flowed into my mouth. But when the glass was no more than half full, she removed it from my mouth, placed it alongside the half-filled beer bottle I'd placed beside he earlier, and smiled at me. "How's it taste, baby?" she asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Before I could respond, Rena extended her neck upward and sealed her mouth onto mine. For one brief instant, her tongue slid between my lips as she probed the inside if my mouth, as she sought the whisky I'd just drank. When she was satisfied with her effort, Rena leaned back, her weight supported by her gloved hands placed on either side of her. Each massive titty protruded from her chest as if each mound were some type of guide, directing my vision upward. "That was nice," she said, her tongue escaping her lips, sliding now from corner to corner, but her eyes locked onto mine.
Because she was so tall, Rena's long, stocking covered legs easily touched mine as our bodies competed for room in the small space. Our eyes met for a brief instant in what can only be classified as a knowing expression, the knowledge that something had happened between this older woman and myself while she cavorted upon the bar, half-dressed - or, half-naked, take your pick - and that we each knew what the next moment would bring. It was then, with me being only inches from Rena's massive display of cleavage, with my body actually trembling from the sexual power generated between Rena and I that I allowed my eyes to once again stare openly at her tits. And it was only her voice calling my name that forced me to lift my chin and once more make eye contact with Rena. "Do you have any idea how old I am, Steve?" Rena asked. When I didn't respond -mainly because I simply did not care how old this amazing woman was - Rena lifted her stocking covered right leg and pressed it against my waist. I took the leg in my left hand, feeling the weight of her well-toned and well-tanned leg in my palm, and waited. I'd never been seduced in this manner before, and I was finding it extremely interesting.
"Baby, I'm sixty-seven years old," Rena whispered as she began to massage my body with her leg. "If that matters to you, I can stop." Again, I simply stared at Rena, knowing that as soon as she dipped her chin, she'd see the tent-pole like bulge in my trousers and be able to answer her own question. "I'm an old woman, Steve, and I have a feeling about you. Since you arrived this afternoon, I've had the distinct impression that you want to kiss me." When I didn't speak, and because Rena had much more sexual experience than I could ever hope to possess, she lowered her leg from my grasp, placed the high-heeled shoe on the small ladder, and stared intently at me for long seconds. "Well, if you can't answer my question one way, perhaps you can answer it another." Slowly, she inserted her long fingers inside the bustier's bra cups, and scooped each massive titty from its silk enclosure. Each huge titty seemed ready to overflow from her hands, the nipples long and hard. "Is this what you want, baby?" Rena asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
Now, I don't know what it was, other than pure sexual energy driven by absolute and deep sexual need that caused Rena to expose her tits. But at that moment, with my trousers bulging outwardly several inches and Rena's inch or longer nipples within easy kissing distance of my lips, I didn't stop to ask myself how I'd come to be standing behind a bar with a woman who was at least sixty-seven years old and who was cupping her tits in her hands. No, I did what I believe any other man would do: I extended my neck forward, not, surprisingly, to make lip-to-nipple contact, but, rather, to press my lips to Rena's thickly lipstick-covered mouth. As our lips came together, the pasty covering of her lipstick coated my lips, and I discovered that the paste actually increased the sexual fires burning hotly inside of me. Rena moaned into the kiss, spread her legs, and wrapped her legs around my waist, locking her ankles behind my back.
And so, with the lustful flames consuming everything inside of me, I pressed my body forward, jamming the still trouser-covered cock between Rena's stocking-covered legs, pressing the bulge forcefully against the thin panty covering her cunt. Rena broke the kiss, tilted her head backward and moaned loudly, "Oh, fuck, Steve." Lifting her chin provided me with the opportunity to next place my lips against her neck, to create a wet and wide, extremely moist path down the slender neck, the red lipstick left on my lips creating a path as well, dark red in color closer to her chin, but becoming increasingly pinkish as the red lipstick wore off and became diluted by my saliva. Rena suddenly released her titties from her hands, pushed me backward several inches, and ripped my shirt open, exposing my sweat-covered chest. "Come the fuck here, baby," she said, her voice deep with lust, her eyes on fire. "Come the fuck here now," she demanded. As she demanded, I stepped forward again, Rena regrasped each of tits in her hands, and held them upward, pressing the hardened nipples tight against my naked chest.
The next time I extended my neck forward, my intent was clear as I dipped my head just enough to take Rena's long, hard left nipple into my mouth. The salty taste of perspiration coated my tongue, but to be honest, her nipple could have tasted like drain cleaner and I still would have assaulted it with my lips and tongue. Evidently, Rena's nipple were the source of extreme pleasure and sexual stimulation for her because as I began an oral assault on first the left, then the right nipple, and as I alternated sucking either fleshy, thimble-shaped button deeper and deeper into my mouth, Rena began to squirm almost uncontrollably on the bar. "Motherfucker, motherfucker, motherfucker," she repeated over and over as she assisted me by shoving not just each nipple but substantial amounts of titty into my already stuffed mouth. The more I sucked her tits, the more amazed I grew at how firm they each were, especially for a woman I knew was at least in her mid-sixties. On and on and on, I sucked as much of Rena's tits into my mouth as space would allow, my eyes now plastered to the sight of her cleavage.
It was when I felt Rena gently lifting my head up and away from her tits that I knew the next phase of this amazing sexual adventure was about to begin. "Come up here, baby," she said, leaning back now against the bar, her upper body supported by her elbows, the long, black velvet gloves still encasing her arms. "Oh, yes, that's it," Rena said as she guided my head not to her mouth or to her tits, but to that one spot on her body I had not yet set my eyes on. Rena slid her gloved fingers down her body until the fingertips rested just at the waistband of the thin panty still covering her pussy. I'm not sure why, but it was then that I recalled how, so far, every older woman I'd been with on this journey across America had each possessed thick mats of pussy hair. But not Rena: as my head neared that spot where I could clearly make out the bulge of her cunt against the thin, silky panty material, and as the musky odor of her pussy reached my nose, I began to believe that Rena shaved her cunt as many women do these days. No small tufts of cunt hair peeked their way from the legbands or from the waistband. No sprigs of crinkly, kinky hair made their presence known as my eyes and my hungry mouth neared Rena's pussy mound. I moved closer, closer still, and now, just an inch away as I prepared to place my lips and tongue on Rena's old cunt.
"Here, baby, let me show you what you've earned tonight," Rena said as she slipped the fingers of her right hand downward between her outspread legs, grasped the right leg band of the panty and pulled the thin material aside to expose her pussy. Already prepared for the sight of a shaved pussy, I grinned in anticipation of soon having Rena's bald cunt locked firmly between my lips.
But again, I was pleasantly surprised by an older woman. As the thin black material moved sideways to reveal more and more of Rena's cunt, I discovered that she did, indeed, possess a small patch of pussy hair. Where Rosie the waitress's cunt hair had been an exceedingly thick mat of coarse, dense hair, Rena's pussy was covered only by a thin, narrow path of cunt hair that matched the color of the hair on her head. The small strip was no more than four or five inches in length and certainly no more than two inches wide. But it did its job covering Rena's cunt, not completely concealing her cunt lips and clit from my view, but not leaving it wide open in full view, either.
I guess it was my taking the time to examine Rena's cunt hair situation that caused her to speak, "Is there something the matter down there, Steve?" I heard Rena ask. Deciding to let my actions speak louder than my words, I leaned forward, placed my left hand on Rena's right hand to keep the panties pulled to the side, and searched for that one spot I knew from experience would cause Rena several moments of sexual pleasure. I easily found her clit as soon as I parted her pussy lips, the two folds of skin magically falling apart as I used my left index and middle fingers to keep the well-oiled lips opened and my access to her pussy button unhindered. By now, Rena was moving her ass upward and downward in eager anticipation of my tongue making contact with her cunt.
So it was no surprise when she flinched noticeably as soon as the tip of my spear-shaped tongue pushed upon her well-oiled clit. "MOTHERFUCKER!" Rena screamed, the volume of her voice and the intensity of her scream momentarily alarming me. But when I felt the pressure of her left hand on the back of my head, pulling me closer to her pussy again, I knew that her screams were the result of passion rather than pain. As I dove forward now and went about the pleasant task of eating Rena's cunt, I asked myself how long it might have been since this amazing woman had had sex. If it was more than a week, I told myself, I'd be surprised. But thoughts of Rena's sex life quickly passed to the wayside as I focused now on doing my best to either bring this sixty-seven year old woman to orgasm, or to bring her very, very close to exploding sexually on my face.
Time after time, I lashed out with my tongue at Rena's pussy, enjoying the musky odor caused by her dancing, but truly relishing the taste of her cunt juices. Rena's cunt lips remained separated, and each time I opened my eyes and saw her gloved fingers holding her cunt open for me, the sexual fires inside me burned that much hotter. Pressing my face against Rena's cunt caused her to moan louder now, and to gyrate her ass in wider circles on the bar. "Oh, Steve, honey," she cooed, "Oh, baby, please!" I sensed Rena might be closer now to orgasm than she was telling me, but I reasoned that if she was holding back on coming because she wanted to enjoy the sensation of having a tongue pressed against her clit for as long as possible, that was perfectly acceptable to me. To widen the spread of her legs, I slid my hands up her stocking-covered legs, grasped each leg directly behind the knee, and lifted the limbs high and wide, the slight change in body position now providing me with several additional inches of space between Rena's shapely legs. And because there was additional space, I was also able to slip an additional inch of tongue into Rena's cunt, the wide expanse of my tongue slipping easily into the dark, moist cavern of Rena's cunt.
"Baby, please don't stop," Rena pleaded, although she had nothing to worry about in that department. To honor her request, I removed my tongue from her pussy, placed it flat against her pussy lips, and began to lap at her cunt as a dog would lap up water. This move allowed not only more of my tongue to make contact with Rena's pussy, but also provided her with additional sources of stimulation as a wider path was created in which her pussy nerve endings were being stimulated. ‘SON OF A BITCH!" Rena screamed over and over as I now dove in for the final attack, as I pressed my head so forcefully into Rena's crotch that her entire body moved several inches away from me. But not wanting to push her off the bar, I quickly regrasped each leg, and pulled her into my face.
And that was when, without warning, Rena exploded. Her ass suddenly shot upwards causing me to temporarily lose contact with her cunt. But, after I quickly established the oral contact, I again set about drawing her clit and pussy lips deep into my mouth, amazed at the elasticity of her pussy lips. I had both cunt lips between my lips, holding onto them with gentle pressure of my teeth, and pulling my head backwards, stretching the lips to their limits. By now, Rena was moving in long, convulsive moves, her ass rising several inches above the bar surface only to fall forcefully downward again, a loud, flesh-against-wood slapping sound filling my ears along with Rena's screams of passion.
"GODDAMN! FUCK! GODDAMN! FUCK!" Rena yelled now as wave after wave of orgasm flowed over her and caused every nerve in her body to explode in pleasure. Because I was finding it difficult to maintain the oral lock between my mouth and Rena's cunt, I quickly slipped each hand under her nearly naked ass cheeks, grasped each fleshy half-ass globe in my wide hands, and with all the strength I could muster, pulled Rena toward me. The move was the right one to make because Rena's pussy lips once more sealed against my lips.
Now, as you know, I've eaten women's cunts before to the point that they explode in sexual pleasure. Most often, the orgasms I sense quaking against my face when a woman explodes are generally the same in terms of intensity or how they act as they transfer the waves of sexual explosions from their pussies to my face. But here, with Rena's orgasm, something seemed entirely different. Yes, her quaking body was similar to every other woman's I've eaten to orgasm., but when Rena extended her left hand again and pressed me against her cunt, I felt as if my face were being smashed in a vice. Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but never in my sexual history have I ever had a woman come as hard on my face as Rena. Maybe it was her advanced age, maybe it was her experience, or, maybe it was just this old woman having a long-desired orgasm. Either way, Rena's orgasm seemed to wrack her body in ways I've never seen in a woman.
What amazed me most about Rena's orgasm, however, was its length. Sure, I know you won't believe me when I tell you that I estimated the explosion in Rena's loins passed the two minute mark. But my friends, it did. And then, it went on another full minute, and then another. Each passing moment was characterized by this older woman screaming loudly, throwing her ass high into the air, then slamming the bare ass cheeks downward with so much force that beer bottles and glasses sitting around her body began to fall and roll off the bar's edge. Rena's screams were accompanied, then, by the crashing of broken glass and the bass-sounding thump-thump-thump of her ass upon the bar. But it was just when I began to believe her orgasm had finally ended and I extended my neck backward to see if Rena was in pain or pleasure when I did something that caused her orgasm to continue on as if she'd been fucked, exploded, fucked again, and exploded again, all in the course of five very noisy and physical moments.
I'm not sure what it was that came over me at that very instant, but for some reason, I felt the need to do something different to Rena, to test the limits of how far she would let me go, or, perhaps how far she would let herself go. Remembering the half-empty beer bottle I'd been sipping on while I waited for Rena to step down from the bar after her amazing dance performance, I grasped the now moisture-covered bottle from beside her, amazed that the bottle had somehow remained upright despite Rena's severe beating her ass had given the bar while I ate her to orgasm. Just as it seemed that Rena's orgasm was finally ending, I slipped the first three fingers of my left hand inside the legband of her panties, and ripped the thin material from her body. The sound of silk tearing resembled a small whisper, but the sound was loud enough to draw Rena's attention. "My, my, you seem as if you're in a hurry, Steve," she said, a broad grin pasted across her face.
I slipped the slim, condensation-covered neck of the green-shaded bottle between Rena's cunt lips and began to gently insert, then retract the bottle until the first three inches of glass disappeared between the old woman's pussy lips. "Oh, fuck!" I heard her exclaim as I quickened the pace of this pussy-bottle fuck. "What the hell is that?" Ren asked as she lifted her head from the bar, stared over her massive mountains of tits lying upon her heaving chest and realized that her body had been invaded with an artificial cock. Thinking Rena would extend her glove-covered hands and remove the bottle from her pussy, I was surprised when she instead grasped the bottle with her right hand and began to pump her cunt with the beer bottle. "Oh, yes, oh, yes," she murmured over and over, returning her head to the bar as she arched her back to receive more of the bottle. "Baby, I like your style," I heard Rena say as she began to increase the speed which the bottle entered and exited her pussy. I'm sure Rena had no idea the bottle was half-filled with beer, but when she tipped the bottle upward and the contents flowed from the bottle, into her cunt, and then began to seep from between her pussy lips, I couldn't help but once again crane my neck forward and lap the sudsy brew as a small river of the excellent tasting beer flowed like a small stream out of her cunt and downward, pooling just below her clenched asshole. "Oh, god, this is wonderful, Steve," Rena cooed as she continued to cuck herself with the bottle. When I was sure she'd emptied the contents of the bottle into her cunt, I decided now was a good time to prepare for the inevitable. Now was the time to remove my cock from my trousers and to free the long, seven-inch shaft from the confines it had been trapped in since Rena and I began this erotic adventure.
Stepping back, I removed my shirt and trousers, now standing naked but still between Rena's uplifted and outstretched legs. Rena was truly into the bottle fuck by now, and had moved her left hand onto her left tit and was manipulating the still rock-hard nipple. By now, Rena and I had been at this game for more than a full half-hour and I decided now was the time for the final act in our little play. But I was perplexed: I didn't want to break the moment by asking Rena to get down from the bar, although I knew if I asked she would certainly agree to my wish. No, I wanted the coming fuck to be as special as it with the other older women I'd fucked, and I knew screwing her on the bar would fulfill a fantasy I'd harbored for some time. But how, Steve? I asked myself. I certainly wasn't tall enough to extend my body upwards to ensure the tip of my cock slid easily between and into Rena's pussy lips. And I was certainly not going to give up on the thought of fucking this beautiful, sexy, older woman. It was then, as another beer can rolled from the bar and fell to the floor as a result of Rena's rough bottle fuck that I suddenly found the answer to my dilemma. Just as the can reached the floor and clanged about, I realized I could use the ladder I'd used to assist Rena and her dancing partners from the bar to reach Rena's cunt.
But I hadn't told Rena yet what I was going to do. I hadn't yet explained to her that now was the time to fuck, now was the time for her to experience my hard cock rather than a condensation-covered glass bottle. Stepping up onto the ladder in my bare feet, I quickly grasped the bottle from Rena's gloved hand as she used the bottle in the same way she'd use a dildo. The sudden loss of the bottle from Rena's grasp caused her to lift her head from the bar surface and to train her eyes on me now in an attempt to understand what it was that was happening. As I looked at Rena, as my eyes traveled the distance from her cunt, across bustier-covered upper body to where her two massive tits and extra-long nipples met my vision, I couldn't help but tell myself that I was one lucky bastard. You should have started fucking older women years ago, Steve, I said to myself.
But I was at the point where I really didn't want to have conversations with myself. No, I wanted to fuck, to drive my cock inside Rena's cunt. Leaning forward now, my body also covered with a thin layer of perspiration, I allowed my forward motion to drive the head of my cock to where it pressed against Rena's wide-spread pussy lips. The head of my cock was like a steel spearhead, hard, wide, and able to pierce anything set before it. By now, Rena's eyes were on mine as the expression we shared was one of desire, one of pure sexual need, one of knowing that we had worked together, perhaps unknowingly, to get to this point where she laid on her back on a bar strewn with beer bottles, whisky glasses, and other alcohol-related item with her legs spread wide, and me leaning inward, the head of my cock acting like a compass, guiding me, and showing me the way to another older woman's willing pussy. Rena's face broadened into a smile, her red lipstick still amazingly thick, the mascara lines around her eyes blurred from perspiration. As the head of my cock pressed against Rena's pussy lips, she opened her mouth and hissed, "Yes, baby, yes," as her black-gloved hands rose, encircled my waist, and settled palm-wide on each cheek of my naked ass. "Yes, baby, right here on the bar." There was no mistaking what she or I wanted, and so, finally thrusting my hips forward, three inches of steel-hard cock sild easily between Rena's aged cunt lips, and entered the deep, dark caverns of her pussy. Rena arched her back as I thrust another two inches if dick inside her, her hands pulling my body toward her, making sure the cock-to-cunt bond was not broken. Looking up at me now, her face painted with pure sexual desire, Rena said, "Fuck me, baby, dear god, fuck me."
With the most powerful thrust I could muster, I slammed my hips forward and my cock completely disappeared into Rena's pussy. Now, I've fucked many exceedingly wet cunts in my life, but you must recall that Rena's pussy was somewhat filled with the beer that had been in my bottle. As inch after inch of hard cock slid easily into her cunt, I felt the stimulation of the alcohol remaining on her cunt lips, each nerve and sexual fiber in my body lighting up my shaft, sending sexual tremors to my brain. It was as if I'd somehow found a way to fuck a water balloon without it collapsing. Dear god, bu Rena's cunt was an ocean of wetness.
I began a series of forward slamming and rearward extractions of my cock as I began to fuck Rena. But as I said, that was a later revelation because at that time, while standing on a small ladder while I slammed my cock into the cunt of a woman nearing seventy years old, and dressed as an old-time saloon girl, my focus was not on comparing the thicknesses of the various pussy hair mattresses I'd encountered on this journey, but, rather, on exploding into orgasm into Rena's cunt.
And there was no mistaking Rena had the same desire and same sexual goals as me. She arched her back again to accommodate the in-and-out motion of our fucking while lifting both of her high-heeled feet, the sharp-pointed stems now framing both sides of my head. Looking down at Rena as our bodies established a rhythm that caused tremors of pure erotic electricity to cruise through and overtake my body, I again found myself amazed at the sight of this beautiful, sexy woman with very large titties, her face painted to resemble a whore, and her stocking-clad legs caressing the sides of my body. But more than that, I found myself relieved that I'd started this journey because I took a chance and allowed myself to be seduced by Rosie, my first older woman, and my first, but certainly not my last, experience at doing everything I could to ensure the women I fucked were always older than me.
Perhaps Rena felt the same because it was then that she locked her eyes onto mine and we communicated silently that now was the time to step up our efforts. While our eyes served as our primary mode of communication, it was also as if a silent, telepathic signal had also been sent and together, and in perfect unison, the words, "Let's come together," issued forth from our mouths as I grasped the back of Rena's knees, pushed her legs downward and closer to her barely covered upper body, and created a driving, pounding cock-into cunt motion that now resulted in the additional sound of a slapping, flesh-on-flesh sound that filled our ears. Just inches below me, Rena's humongous tits flowed over her chest like huge bowls of jelly, the nipples close enough for me to dip my chin and to suck the right, fleshy, meaty button securely into my mouth once more. Rena's mouth exploded in another series of loud moans and gasps as I teased the nipple, as I applied small, nipping-style bites, as I washed it tenderly with my saliva-coated tongue. Rena's right hand suddenly appeared, pushing the right tit upward, cramming more of the fleshy, white-skinned globe into my hungry, sexy-needing mouth. Only when I desired to kiss Rena did I break the oral lock on her nipple, extending my neck forward and once again finding her mouth with my lips.
On and on and on, Rena's pussy eagerly met every thrust of my cock as she continued to hold her feet high above my head, her silky ankles caressing my ears. But it was while I was in the midst of a downstroke, while I was driving my cock forcefully into Rena's cunt that I realized something: Rena's pussy was tighter than any other woman's I'd had the pleasure of slipping my cock into. Each time I either inserted or removed my cock from Rena's cunt, I swear I felt an increased tension on each side of the shaft, as if Rena's cunt was that of a young woman. Obviously, either Rena had excellent cunt muscle control, or her pussy was relatively inexperienced for a woman her age. Looking down at her as I drove my cock yet again into her cunt, I'm certain Rena had the ability to read my mind. It was when she smiled up at me that I asked, "Is that you, honey?" The smile broadened on her face as I again felt the unique pressure of an age-old pussy wrapping itself tightly around my very hard, pile-driving cock. Loving the muscle control Rena was displaying with her pussy, I asked the woman lying under me and taking every last millimeter of my shaft, "Is that your pussy trying to prevent my cock from escaping?"
Rena's face broke into even a wider, knowing grin as she seemed to toy with me. By now, the pressure in my cock had increased and I knew I was near to coming. Rena lifted her right hand again, placed the glove-covered palm tenderly against my left cheek, and asked, "Well, if it isn't me doing that to you, baby, then I'm guessing there's a ghost in here with us!" With those words, she closed her eyes, turned her head to the right, and began to sink deeper and deeper into this bar fuck she was one half of. Soft moans which steadily grew in volume began to escape from her mouth as I realized she was now focused on coming, of maintaining that special, tight, cunt muscle control around my cock as she simultaneously allowed herself to drift closer and closer to coming.
Looking down at Rena, I just couldn't believe how much her costume had played into this game of sexual contact. I mean, as you know, I love it when a woman wears heels and stockings, the effect always causing my cock to harden, and my intent to focus on having the woman ride or suck my cock. I guess it was the sight of several things - Rena's huge titties jiggling about her chest, the long, extended nipples pointing at me, or even the streaked mascara under her eyes - that caused my balls to finally stir and the tingling sensation I always feel just before coming began to circulate in my loins. Dipping my head a few inches farther down, I watched as the entire length of my cock disappeared into Rena's only marginally hairy cunt. Inch after inch of hard cock either slid out of view into Rena's pussy, or it emerged as a glistening, cunt-juice covered, meaty pole, so eager to return to the warm but damp confines of Rena's cock-hungry cunt. It was when Rena returned her velvet glove-covered hands to me ass, looked up at me through mascara-run eyes and said, "Come with me, baby, come with me," that I knew all she had to do was to give me a sign - any sign whatsoever - and my cock and balls would explode in a torrent of white, hot, crème that I had no doubt would fill every last space of this old woman's cunt.
One thing I have learned to love about older women is their ability to either control or prolong when they have an orgasm. Rosie had that ability, for sure, but because my experience fucking older women was relatively limited, I still found it amazing that older women such as Rosie, Elise, Tina, or Bonita, certainly had the ability to signal to their lovers that they were there, they were at that point where they could time the exact second their cunts burst forth in sexual explosions, where they received the hot load of the man fucking them, where moans fueled by torrid, deep and lustful passion screamed from their lips and echoed from the walls. Rena did exactly that, because just as my cock and balls began to feel the sexual tremors of an orgasm that could no longer be held back, just as this beautiful woman felt me jam my cock so forcefully between her cunt lips that the forward motion pushed her backward across the bar and caused her head to drape over the edge, Rena began to moan, the sounds escaping her lips deep in tone, almost resembling the voice of a man. "Yes, Steve, yes, Steve, yes, Steve," Rena said time and again as long, sexually electric vibrations gathered at the base of my cock, circled the shaft, and raced upward, the tremors pushing what I realized later would prove to be the largest load of come I've ever deposited in a woman's pussy.
But there were two of us in the bar, two of us connected at the cock and cunt, two of us engaged in this sexual ballet, and as this intense and powerful orgasm began, I too offered my own version of sex-related sounds as my cock began to eject from its internal workings the proof that not only had I enjoyed this amazing, unplanned fuck, but that I had enjoyed it to an unprecedented degree. "Rena, baby," I said, looking down at her as the level of her own reactive moans began to grow in volume. When Rena turned her head to face me and our eyes met, it was clear she'd waited for me, waited for my cock to detonate, waited for me to provide her with the gift of come. ‘OH, FUCK, RENA," I roared as my orgasm intensified, as the internal quaking of my loins reached a boiling point and the sexual seizures I was experiencing began to overtake my entire body. "FUCK, RENA, FUCK!" I screamed again as the power of my orgasm grew and grew. By now, I was slamming so hard at Rena's cunt that the usual flesh-slapping sounds a man and woman make when their upper legs make contact when having sex was also accompanied by the sound of my balls hitting that area between the bottom of Rena's pussy and her asshole. ‘BABY, BABY, BABY, I'M COMING," I yelled, loving every second of fucking this older woman, and hoping in the back of my mind that there would be another chance to repeat what Rena and I were doing here on top of the bar.
For her part, Rena made sure to let me know she was enjoying our fuck as much as I was. "That's it, Steve, that's it," she began to repeat as if she were in a trance and the words had become her mantra. The faster and harder I slammed into her cunt, the faster Rena repeated the words, over and over, her eyes locked onto mine as if looking away might cause me to remove my cock and stop the fuck there before she experienced her own orgasm. But what I did not know was that Rena had actually reached her own sexual explosion point, and although her words left her mouth softly, in just a matter of seconds, the words to a scream.
It was when Rena released my ass cheeks and placed each hand on the side of her tits, then pushed the two gelatinous globes together that I realized she was now coming. Her cunt lips had reached a point where my cock felt as if it were being squeezed erotically between the jaws of a vise, her pussy sucking every inch of my cock everytime I shoved it into her cunt, and holding on like a vacuum each time I thrust my ass backward to once more gain enough power to crash my cock hard, hard, hard into Rena's willing and hungry pussy. "MOTHERFUCKER, OH, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!" Rena screamed now, her back arched like an inverted "U", her tits pushed upward, her mouth open wide as more sounds fled from inside her. "OH, YOU COCKSUCKER, OH, YOU BASTARD," Rena roared as I looked down at her and marveled that a woman her age still had such an extreme level of sexual energy inside her.
"COME THE FUCK HERE, BABY," Rena cried, releasing her tits and grasping the sides of my head with her black velvet-covered hands. In an instant, our lips were again pressed tightly together, the force Rena using so powerful that our front teeth crashed together. But there was no pain from the meeting of our teeth: no, there was simply too much sexual bliss cruising between our bodies to even think about anything painful unless it was related to my cock slipping inside her cunt or Rena's pussy sucking my shaft deeper and deeper into her body. With our mouths now as joined as our sexual organs, Rena and I both began to moan into the kiss as, unfortunately, the final traces of my orgasm began to subside and my heartrate returned to normal. I couldn't ignore the silk of her bustier pressing against my skin, or the silky, erotic caresses of her stockings on my skin. But all that was immaterial to the fact that when my orgasm finally did end, Rena, who seemed uncannily capable of timing her orgasm to end with mine the same as it had begun, lay under me, whimpering, moaning still, turning her head as the white hair of her head swished from side to side. I leaned forward and laid my head on her shoulder, my chest heaving, feeling Rena run her gloved hands across my naked, heavily-coated with perspiration back. Softly, she placed her red lipstick covered mouth beside my right ear and murmured, "oh, baby, oh, baby," as I gently kissed the skin of this amazing woman.
Rena and I lay on the bar for several moments until I began to cramp still standing on the small ladder. She protested as I drew my body backward and the shaft of my semi-hard cock slid from her come-flooded pussy lips. "No, baby, no," she pleaded, her arms outstretched, her eyes clearly wanting me to come back and repeat what we'd spent the last half hour doing. "Come back here, baby, please."
But I had other plans, and I was certain that if I could get Rena up from the bar, she'd agree to take part in what I wanted to do. Gently, I brought this aged woman to a sitting position and kissed her neck, her tits, even the inside of her thighs, the taste of salty perspiration coating my tongue. A quick glance at her white-haired cunt revealed that the intense, heavy load of sexual crème I'd deposited in Rena's cunt was beginning to ooze from her glory hole. Inserting my finger into Rena's cunt, I removed enough come to coat the fingertip, bringing the goo-covered tip to Rena's mouth who eagerly cleaned the finger in a matter of seconds. Stepping back now and standing naked behind the bar, I grasped Rena by both hands and led her to the door of the bar, my desire for this woman growing again by the second. I'd just opened the door when it appeared to me that I was completely naked, and Rena at that point where if she stepped outside, there might be plenty of people still lingering outside the building who would see us and know immediately what had happened between us.
But Rena sensed what I was feeling. "Come with me, Steve," she said as she opened the door and stepped outside into the cool night air. "I own this fucking place, and no one will tell me what I can or cannot do." Turning to me, her tits in full view, her ass and pussy in clear view, Rena led me naked across the parking lot in the direction of her office. Several people loitered about the pool or the parking lot, many drinking beer or whisky. But when Rena and I emerged from the now closed bar and made our way semi-naked across the parking lot, all noise stopped as several sets of eyes focused on Rena and myself. Some people pointed, but no one spoke. It was obvious what Rena and I had done, and we were all adults: There was no explanation needed as to why Rena was still semi-dressed in her dance costume with her tits exposed, and I was naked with a still somewhat hard cock.
Even as I felt my come and Rena's cunt juices drying in the night air, I knew there would be talk tomorrow, but tonight, no one said a word as Rena led me to the office door. Rena entered the small room first, her hand still in mine. Just before I stepped through the door, I heard the loud sound of applause and cheers, knowing for certain why the crowd behind me was reacting the way they did. I stepped into the office only to be assaulted by Rena's lips as her still gloved hands found my cock and began to stroke the shaft. In a matter of seconds, my thirty-two year old cock was hard again, and ready for action. Rena broke the kiss, held my face in her hands and said, "Come with me, baby. Tonight, you're all mine."
I spent the next five days in Endee, New Mexico. And not one night was spent sleeping on the sofa.
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