Mature Woman's Younger Girlfriend, Part 2
So there I was, well-off, divorced and bitter on what would
have been my 21st wedding anniversary. After work, I went
to the university library to pick up materials and bumped
into Desi. She noticed I was down in the dumps and suggested
we go to her place and have a drink, then go out to dinner or
something. What the hell, I thought, it could be worse,
so I said yes. As is so often the case in Hawaii, it was a gorgeous
day and the evening with its full moon was promising to be
equally as gorgeous. Desi, as it turned out, sort of lived
at home, but only sort of. Her megabucks parents had some
sort of estate-type abode a la the set-up in "Magnum,
PI" and Desi was living in a guest house on the property.
She was getting ready to move into Honolulu proper though,
she said, as the drive from the house to the university was
tedious. Her place was spacious and pretty posh, complete
with private beach. This way, she explained, she could
entertain her friends and her parents could entertain
theirs, and no one was the wiser. I sat outside while Desi
made a pitcher of some of the strongest Pina Coladas I'd
ever had. I downed two like they were soft drinks, and Desi
laughed and said I needed to be careful, as the drinks would
go straight to my head. "Damn, Desi, I'd rather
they went somewhere else, if you know what I mean!"
I retorted, thinking of all the sex I had been missing. "Hey,
honey, don't be upset, you'll find someone else.
It takes time, " she said, and sat next to me, rubbing
my back. Sipping another Colada, I explained to her how
absolutely worthless my husband had made me feel while
we were getting our divorce and how nasty he was to the present
day when we had to have business dealings with each other.
"Baby, I think you need some serious "me"
time, " Desi said, and continued to rub my back and
shoulders. "Maybe you're right, Des, but who's
going to be interested in an old broad like me?" I sighed
and stared at the water, feeling incredibly sorry for myself.
So sorry, in fact, that I didn't noticed Desi's
hands lightly moving over my throat, collarbone and breasts.
She skillfully unbuttoned my blouse and put a graceful
hand on the lace bra I was wearing. This felt good, but I was
still sunk in self-pity. Desi got my bra open, which I barely
registered, then started massaging my breasts. My nipples
immediately stood at attention. Desi smiled and bent down
to put her lips to them, nuzzling and sucking, licking and
tweaking. Now I took notice, but did nothing to stop her.
Those Coladas had done their work, namely bring down the
resistance barriers. I felt paralyzed and didn't
dare move, lest the moment end. Desi kept licking and sucking
my breasts, and I could feel myself getting wet Down There.
As if she had telepathy, Desi's hand slid under my skirt
to my thong and moved the fabric aside to check my wetness.
"Hmmm, baby, you seem to like this, don't you?"
she asked. I was speechless, and could only nod. I still
don't know how she did it, but Desi managed to get me
naked in seconds, and lying down on the chaise longue. As
she continued her work on my breasts, her fingers were playing
with my pussy. I felt her touch my clit and I inhaled sharply.
Dammmmn, that felt good. She started stroking and tugging,
like a guy jerking off. Then she put a finger or two into my
pussy, and started teasing my clit again. Well, I hadn't
had sex for going on 18 months by this time, and kinda drunk
or not, I was not expecting this treatment. I climaxed in
what must have been a minute, spluttering and gasping and
panting. When I opened my eyes, I saw Desi lying next to me,
smiling happily. "Boy, Baby, you came quick! Let's
hope you take a little longer next time!" she said.
To be Continued
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