Chapter 15

That woman was driving me out of my mind. She carried the marks of time, stories etched into every curve of her body. Broken in her own way, she had a rare beauty, carefully preserved. She knew the power she held over me, and it was that awareness — quiet, calm, but always there — that drove me wild.

Middle age gave her that charm only confident women possess. She owned herself, without needing to prove a damn thing to anyone. Around her, I felt small, fragile, almost like a kid discovering life. And paradoxically, it was that mix of insecurity and desire that made me want to lose myself in her. What swept me away most was how she could turn even my flaws into strengths. Her gaze undressed me slowly, revealing things I didn’t even dare admit to myself. It was like her presence had the power to break me down and build me back up at the same time.

And there was something else: her raw honesty, her direct way of feeling and showing what she felt. No masks, no games — and yet, she seemed to toy with me. She played because she wanted to, but always genuinely. Maybe it was that unguarded surrender that made me love her more each time.

Our encounter was one of a kind, the sort that etches into your skin before it even sticks in your memory. The hotel room felt suspended in time, like it had been set up just for the two of us. After those first kisses, there was no turning back. Every piece of clothing hitting the floor was a silent confession, a raw surrender, uncovering vulnerabilities that only show up when desire overrides shame.

The kiss was hot, slow, a small kiss but loaded with intensity. There was real feeling in it, warming me up as much as the fire of lust consuming us. It wasn’t just horniness — there was love mixed in, giving the touch more weight, almost sacred.

My hands roamed her skin like I was exploring forbidden territory. I felt the softness of suede under my fingers, broken up by little freckles, subtle textures that made that surface one-of-a-kind, alive. The heat from her body seemed to pull me in, begging me to press closer, no space between us.

Her breasts, firm, medium-sized, with pink areolas, mashed soft against my chest. I felt them molding to my body, like they wanted to leave their mark on me. And when my cock met her pussy, raw, smooth, hairless, it was like touching something sacred and craved. The wet softness sent shivers through my whole body, and there were no more pretenses: just flesh against flesh, desire against desire, the moment when passion stops being an idea and becomes body.

When our mouths broke apart, the silence was broken only by a low invitation, almost a whispered vow:

“Come.”

The smile that spread across her lips was pure sin. Without rushing, she turned her back and crawled onto the bed, showing off that round ass that moved like a tease, swaying with every step. Between her thighs, the wet shine of her pussy showed pink, an explicit call. She lay down facing me, pulling her hair back, and spread her legs slow, like an invitation.

Me, already hard and all in, I threw myself on her. Our bodies collided in a quick, wet kiss tasting of hot saliva. My mouth soon escaped the kiss and trailed down the line of her neck, sucking slow, leaving red marks of possession. The scent of her skin mixed with sweet perfume had me dizzy.

My lips found her firm, pink breasts, and I lost myself there. I sucked them hungrily, alternating slow pulls with light bites, while my hands squeezed the soft flesh spilling between my fingers. I swirled my tongue in circles, teasing each nipple until they hardened, sensitive, begging for more. Leaving them still wet from my mouth, I moved down her belly. My tongue snaked along the path, tracing hot lines that made her gasp, her stomach clenching with every touch. The smooth skin of her belly quivered under my caresses, and my hands held her firm by the hips, pinning her down.

My mouth went down until it found that smooth pussy, not a single hair, soft clean skin that seemed made to be kissed. I ran my tongue slow, just grazing, tasting the lightly salty sweet that made me want more. She spread her legs wider, offering herself without shame, but her face had a shy blush, like the pleasure was revealing something about her. Up close, I saw the faint cesarean scar, a line almost faded, but loaded with stories. I kissed it there, beside the scar, like revering something holy. She shuddered, arching her back, and that made me smile against her skin — like every detail of her was fuel for my desire.

With the tip of my tongue, I traced the scar’s outline before dipping back to her pussy. I caressed her wet entrance with my fingers, feeling how hot and slick she already was, dripping on me. I slid one finger in slow, exploring the tight walls, while my mouth latched onto her clit, sucking and licking in uneven strokes, almost cruel.

She writhed, gripping the sheets, trying to hold back. Her whole body trembled, but her voice came out low, muffled moans like she didn’t want the world to know how hard she was coming. That effort to stay quiet drove me crazy, like every sigh was a secret shared just with me.

I didn’t stick to the obvious — I dragged my tongue lower, wetting every fold, exploring down to her ass, where I licked slow, teasing. The contrast of the hot wet pussy with that bold touch made her legs twitch, her breath falter. With every lick there, her ass clenched, offering more.

I switched it up: two fingers sliding firm inside her, my tongue attacking her clit, then down to her ass, in a cycle that left her reeling. She moaned soft, almost whimpering, like she was trying to hold off the orgasm, but her body betrayed her: hips bucking, thighs shaking, belly tight.

And when she came, it was gentle, muffled, like she didn’t want to let the confession slip. A tremor ran through her whole body, her pussy throbbing around my fingers, pulsing hot and wet against my mouth. I felt every contraction on my tongue, every hidden spasm in her body, and I kept going, sucking, drawing it out until she pushed me away with her hands, almost begging, panting, trying to catch her breath.

I climbed back up, pressing my mouth to hers, mixing our saliva in a hot, unhurried kiss. Our eyes met, and as I hovered over her body, my hard cock slid along her already wet pussy, brushing light, teasing.

I pushed in slow, feeling the head part the way. It was tight, hot, almost sucking me in. She gasped deep and grabbed my arm.

“Stop… slow…” she asked through gritted teeth.

I obeyed, holding still for seconds that felt eternal. I started again calm, inch by inch, until I was all the way in. The sensation was overwhelming: every muscle of hers gripped me tight, hot, wet, like she wanted me trapped there.

I tried to move, but she squeezed my shoulders again:

“Like this… stay… don’t move yet.”

I didn’t get it at first, but I obeyed. I stayed buried in her, not pulling out, just feeling that pussy clench around me, throbbing. Her body adjusted, and then she started grinding slow from underneath, making short, slow movements, like she was testing me, getting used to the size. I kept her pinned under my weight, breathing heavy, unable to tear my eyes from hers.

Every grind of hers sent a shiver through me. The gentle friction made my cock slide just a bit, but not escape, and that drove me crazier than any quick thrust. Little by little, her hips picked up rhythm, her thighs trembled, and her chest rose uneven against mine. Suddenly, I felt her body clench hard. She ground faster and faster, her moans now short, muffled against my mouth. Cum leaked from her hot, soaking everything. I felt the warm liquid run down, coating my whole cock and dripping to my balls, which slapped against her smooth skin. That wet sensation, the heat trickling down there, made me groan loud, biting the corner of her mouth.

I didn’t let her go. I kept her pinned, feeling every tremor, every contraction of her pussy sucking me in, while she came hard, arching her body under me until she lost her breath.

To be continued… One day…