Ageless Erotica Read online

  Spent, satiated, and in full sexual bliss, we found our way under the bed covers, folding into each other’s arms, our bodies entangled. “You know,” I whispered, “you could have had your choice of any of those young studs downstairs in the lounge.”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “I’ll choose a seasoned, beautiful artist over a beautiful accident of nature any day.”

  “This role-play thing is awesome!” I said. “Can we meet again next weekend?”

  “Oh, I am so sorry,” she said. “Did you forget? We’re on grandparent duty next weekend. We’re keeping the kids while Jack and Susan go away for a short trip, just the two of them.”

  “Should we turn them on to this role-play stuff?” I asked.

  “No,” she answered. “They’re much too young to handle the vulnerability. We’ll let them discover it later on their own.”

  “Rain check?” I asked.

  “Absolutely,” she answered with enthusiasm.

  “God, I love my life with you,” I said.

  “And I with you, my dear,” she responded in her sexy, sleepy voice, her head nestling into the soft, gray-white of my chest hair.

  COMING FULL CIRCLE

  Cela Winter

  Annie turned slowly in front of the full-length mirror. She hadn’t been able to decide between the blush-colored teddy or the lilac baby doll at the lingerie shop, so she’d bought both—a breathtaking extravagance. She justified it to herself that this was a special occasion, very special. Closing her eyes and unhooking her mind, she slid her palms down her body, imagining that it was Ben gliding the fabric over her curves, exploring the contrasts of flesh and silk.

  There’d been a few dates, some gaspingly sweet kisses, touches, and then the preliminaries of intimacy—or rather attempts at them. For once, Annie wished she lived in a city where it was possible for two people to go about their private business without being noticed—and interrupted—by everyone.

  But then, a few days ago, Ben said, “This isn’t going to work out.” She’d nearly cried, thinking he’d given up on wanting to see her that way—it was just too difficult. Then he asked her to go away for a long weekend, somewhere that kids, grandkids, friends, and neighbors couldn’t get at them.

  “I don’t want this to be some kind of furtive, hurry-up fuck, Annie. I want to make love to you, then we can, uh, fuck. But I’m not the kid I once was, so . . . there’ll be considerable downtime in between. That’s why I want a weekend.” He gave a grin and a one-shoulder shrug that utterly melted her heart. She agreed almost before he finished speaking, glad that the years of friendship, for lack of a better word, eliminated any pretense between them.

  The words make love . . . fuck . . . make love . . . fuck swirled around in her brain all week. People kept asking her what she was smiling about. The smile was the least of it. Anticipation roamed over her like a lover’s hands, startling her with its power. Her lips would tingle or her breasts ache with wanting, her sex felt full and heavy and . . . ready as she went through her busy days.

  Had Ben known his words would affect her like that? She hoped so.

  She held up the baby doll in front of her, eyeing it critically. Each lacy ensemble, not too sheer, concealed what she thought of as figure flaws but discouragingly revealed others.

  “Why am I so anxious? It’s Ben.” She shook her head at her own foolishness.

  He’d always been part of her life, her brother Stan’s best friend, while Annie was the nuisance of a little sister, trying to tag along and yelling at them to wait up.

  One day, there was a shift in her vision, and her brother’s pal became a whole lot more than just a playmate. There was a tug of awareness, sidelong glances, and awkward flirting, then that un-forgettable summer at the end of high school. She didn’t consider herself the sentimental type, but she’d been very lucky with the men in her life. Every girl should have a first love like that.

  What was that saying? Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans? Nursing school for her, an Army hitch for Ben. They got busy . . . and drifted apart.

  Annie met Carl; Ben came back to their hometown with a fiancée, Nora. The following forty years were full—where had the time gone?—rewarding, hectic, as family and work always were, yet there remained that subtle pull between them, like the force that keeps two planetary bodies in orbit. Somehow, he just understood her in a way that Carl, as much as she loved him, never quite did. Stan, Nora, Carl, all were gone now, one way or another. The kids were grown, raising their own families.

  Annie knew the talk and speculations about him from the other nurses at the hospital, typical small-town gossip. He dated sporadically but never seriously. The consensus was that he still carried a torch for his ex-wife, but Annie didn’t think that was true, merely convenient. When asked, Ben would just say nonchalantly that he was too choosy for his own good.

  He was so great all during Carl’s final illness, the best of family friends, always nearby as she groped through the tangled exhaustion, rage, and bewilderment of loss. Once again, subtly, things between them changed. Self-doubt whispered in her brain that it had been a very long time since she’d been with a man, even Carl. How would she—Annie cut off the uncomfortable thought.

  She’d been sad, of course, and lonesome, but it was more than that. Beyond loneliness or missing Carl or simply missing sex, it was intimacy she lacked, that intangible connection between herself and a man, the sense of completeness.

  She knew that he was watching and waiting, letting her decide when she was ready. That was Ben Alderman’s way. She watched and waited, too, letting his patience beautify her, basking in the heat growing between them.

  At last. She was waiting by the door as he parked in the driveway. He looked so nice in khakis and a striped shirt instead of jeans or his work uniform. Annie was glad she had dressed up too, wearing the rose-colored wrap dress that was her nice outfit for warm weather. The silky teddy was like a soft breeze on her skin under her clothes. She reveled in her secret finery, a preparation of body and mind for the upcoming encounter.

  “So . . . where are we going?” she asked as they turned onto the highway.

  “Out to the lake. I got us a cabin . . . a very private cabin.”

  “Really? The lake and you didn’t bring fishing gear?” she mocked lightly.

  His face lit up. “No kidding? You want to fish?” He slowed the car and started to pull over, preparing to make a U-turn. “We can just head back to town and get the—”

  Annie let out a squawk of protest before she saw the smile playing under his mustache and realized that he was teasing back. They laughed more than the joke warranted and held hands as they drove, taking the two-lane through farmlands and into the forest. The conversation faded away as they approached their destination and the atmosphere between them thickened. The sun was dropping behind the mountains, and the air was growing cooler as they parked.

  The word “cabin” hadn’t prepared her; she’d been thinking of a fisherman’s camp, utilitarian and plain. So long as there was a comfortable bed and a lock on the door, she was fine with that. Ben bowed her in with a flourish. She entered a few paces, then stopped and turned in a full circle, exclaiming, peripherally aware of his pleased grin at her reaction.

  The place was gorgeous, made of milled logs, with huge windows, an artfully rustic fireplace, and, in the room’s ell, a vast bed.

  “I had the fridge stocked with various things, or we can go out,” he said hesitantly, after lighting the ready-laid fire. “There’s the restaurant at the Lodge or—”

  “The wining and dining can wait, Ben,” she broke in. Her voice sounded rather far away to her ears.

  “I . . . I just don’t want you to think, you know . . .” His voice trailed away.

  “I don’t.” He sounds nervous. She would have laughed, if she hadn’t been feeling exactly the same. Taking a deep breath, she said softly, “This has been a long time coming, Ben. I think we both know what we want.”<
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  “Yes, but for me . . . it doesn’t end here, Annie.”

  The simple candor banished her last pangs of anxiety. “Me neither.” With a chuckle, she said, “So, now that we’ve declared that our intentions are honorable . . .”

  She tugged at the tie of her dress and shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor. Feeling an intense gratitude for the kindliness of firelight, she stood before him, wearing only the blush-colored teddy and her high-heeled sandals.

  The admiring glow in Ben’s brown eyes turned hot and flinty. “You look like you did at seventeen.” It wasn’t true, but for once she didn’t care.

  He stepped nearer, then nearer still, stopping a hand’s breadth away from her; the electric pulse of arousal that crossed the tiny air gap between them was as potent as any physical contact. Annie couldn’t tear her eyes from his and felt her breath getting short, suddenly very aware of her nipples tightening. They hadn’t even kissed yet.

  Another step. He pressed her back against the smooth planks of the front door. She could feel the warmth of his skin through the crisp cotton of his shirt and the fragile fabric of the lingerie.

  He remembered.

  All these years and he remembered that she liked the pressure of his body just that way, the feeling of surrender that swept her from knees to collarbone when there was no place to go, when his sheer physical presence demanded all her attention. The lines of his body were hard against hers, and his hands were pressed to the door on either side of her head, while his lips and the tip of his nose barely ghosted over her hair and throat and jaw, inhaling the scent of her skin.

  Feeling that she would choke on her own desire if they didn’t move faster, Annie flung her arms around Ben’s neck, landing her mouth on his and inviting his lips and tongue to engage.

  Oh god! Not only the sensuality but also the sheer relief of finally kissing him, after the week—and longer—of yearning, made her giddy. His lips were still soft but firm, just like always, and their tongues and breaths mingled as naturally as if the last forty-something years had never happened.

  For an instant, she was a girl again, in love for the first time, giving herself to the boy who had completely reordered her awareness of herself.

  There was more now, though; a sense of deep, masculine power that called to her on an unexpected, fundamental level, surprising her with the strength of her response. Annie leaned her weight against his chest, slipping one leg between his. Strong hands stroked her hair and drifted down to caress the smoothness of her bare shoulders, then traveled farther, rounding the curve of her ass, pulling her tightly to him, against the thickness of his growing erection.

  Without conscious command, her fingers began working the buttons of his shirt, desperate to lay skin against skin. She pulled his shirt free from his waistband and circled her arms around his naked back. His body was still fit, but somewhat thickened around the middle; she found that embracing his girth was both comforting and exciting. Still kissing leisurely, but with even greater intent, Ben walked backwards toward the bed, drawing her along, and sat down heavily, spreading his legs for her to stand between them.

  He pulled at the ribbon laces and then parted the teddy. His hand curved and filled itself with a breast. The rumble in his throat as he squeezed and kneaded raised the heat that was seething deep in her source to an almost scorching level.

  His other hand gripped her bottom, and he drew them both up onto the bed, rolling her onto her back and resting his weight on one elbow and forearm. He brushed his lips over hers, along her throat, then further down. Annie shivered at his hot breath as he traced a line around her nipple with his tongue, then fastened his mouth to her and began to suckle, softly at first, then more vigorously as she moaned and arched into him.

  “Touch me,” she pleaded.

  His fingers deftly moved the lacy strip that formed the crotch of the teddy, gently exploring her lips before slipping between them. The delicacy of his stroke on her clit was too intense—she cried out and bucked into his hand, seeking a firmer pressure that would allow the sensations to build.

  Another change. Far from the fumbling eagerness of a boy, his touch was now sure and intuitive, guided by her reactions. Annie trembled as her excitement grew, and Ben responded with a gravelly hum, clasping her to him as the tempo of his fingers outpaced the pull of his mouth on her nipple. This sound of his arousal pushed her over the peak and she sobbed softly with the swirling, gripping waves of her release. He held her tenderly as her breathing slowed and the repletion of her climax was stirred by the growing need to return pleasure.

  “We’re not even naked yet!” Annie exclaimed with a gasping laugh. Her sandals had come off at some point, and Ben helped her out of the teddy, embellishing the process with kisses and nibbles. Perhaps she should have been more bashful, but it seemed pointless as her flesh burned for full contact. She undid his buckle and zipper then, and with a playful shove made him stand up off the bed. She eased his khakis over the swell of his cock, which bobbed heavily as it was freed. Ducking down, she rolled the flat of her tongue around the head, savoring the musky, salty tang and smiling to herself at his hiss and shudder.

  Ben had changed and grown, learning along the way—so had she. Giving a smile full of promises, she leaned back and worked her way up on the bed, pulling him along with her till she felt the pillows’ support behind her shoulders. With judicious shifts, she arranged him so that he straddled her upper body. Threading an arm through his thighs, Annie lifted herself to nuzzle the soft skin of his sac, inhaling the richly male scent of him. She lipped and licked her way down the length of his cock, searching out the spots that made him twitch and grunt, then revisiting them. She took him in deeply, guiding him to surge in and out of her mouth as she looked up and watched his expression change.

  “Damn, woman! That’s so good!” Ben gripped the headboard and gingerly extricated himself. Reaching over to the box of condoms on the nightstand, he made a few quick preparations and moved to settle between her legs.

  “A-a-a-a-aaaahhh . . .” The soft sound poured from her throat, growing in volume as he rocked in slowly, filling her with his length and width. The intimacy she had craved was now shockingly immediate—she had forgotten the sensation of stretching and accommodating. Then the primal urge to respond to his rhythm took her over. As they moved together, all her senses were saturated with him, his smell and the scent of their bodies joined, his sweat-slick shoulders under her encircling arms, the coarse hairs of his legs against the smooth skin of her inner thighs, the huff of his breath.

  He pulled back, tantalizing her, leaving only his cockhead inside her, moving just slightly, while she squirmed and whined beneath him, then he plunged into her, thrusting fast and deep. As she neared her orgasm, he pulled back yet again, teasing her till she was almost howling with frustration.

  “Oh, god, Ben!” she cried out, weakly pummeling his back. “Ben, please!”

  He shifted, sitting back on his heels and pulling her up onto his thighs. “I want to see your face when you come,” he said gruffly. “I’ve thought about it so many times.”

  Annie felt a wave of dizzying arousal. What he could do to her with his words! She clamped her legs around his waist as he grasped her hips and began pounding into her. The top of her head was making contact with the headboard at each thrust, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, so long as he kept up his possession of her body. His thumb sought out her clitoris, rolling it with ease in her silky wetness.

  She was getting close. Her chest and face and throat were hot, and she knew the flush of her approaching climax was blossoming on her skin. Digging her fingers into his hips, she tried to drag him even farther inside her as she arched against him, while twisting pulses of sensation carried her away. From a distance, she heard herself cry out Ben’s name, mixed with curses and endearments.

  His thrusts grew wild and erratic. Fluttering open hazy eyes, she watched as he threw his head back and forced harsh groans thro
ugh gritted teeth as he jolted his orgasm into her.

  They lay together, sweaty limbs entangled, as gradually their hearts quieted and their breathing calmed. Ben stretched out one leg, then the other, and they both gave a little whimper as they became unjoined. He rolled onto his back with a happy mumble, and Annie snuggled into his side, finding that hollow in his shoulder where her head fit so naturally. She realized that not once since she’d shed her dress had worries about her age or appearance crossed her mind. She only knew that she felt beautiful, womanly, and sexy.

  “That was . . . as good as I remembered.”

  “Better.”

  “Yeah . . .”

  Afterglow.

  Whispers, husky laughter, caresses that started out languid but grew in intent. At length, he propped himself up on an elbow to look down at her, smiling. “Remember how I said something about needing more downtime than I used to?”

  “Um, yes . . .”

  Warm lips pressed into her ear, murmuring, “Well, I’ve got something to prove.”

  The words created an anticipation that billowed from her inner core to her extremities. “And just what would that be?” Her heartbeat began picking up again.

  The lips were replaced by his tongue, which began a meandering voyage down her neck, around her breasts, to her navel. Once there, Ben laid a hand on the curve of her belly and rested his chin on it, smiling up at her. “Some parts of me are just as good as they ever were . . .”

  The downward journey recommenced.