The Mature Neighbor Who Offered Me Her Shower—and Something More

I'm one of those men who have always liked older women. I'm twenty-five, and for as long as I can remember, the women who undo me are the ones who already know what they want, the ones who don't ask twice. I have nothing against the rest, but a mature woman has a calmness that drives me crazy, and a way of grabbing your cock without hesitation that young girls still haven't learned.

I'd just come off a falling-out with Sofía, a story I'd rather not go into here. When she moved back to Mendoza, I returned to my usual routine: no relationships, shutting myself away a little, letting time pass. Six months later, the twists of fate led me to my first official job.

I sent out a couple of résumés and got hired for what was supposed to be a temporary position at a pizzeria that had opened a little over a month earlier. The coincidence was cruel and generous at the same time: the place was around the corner from the apartment Sofía used to live in, which was now occupied by Marina, a friend of hers who had taken over the lease.

Marina was forty-two and had a way of looking at you as if she were always calculating something. Sooner rather than later, she showed up at the place and became a regular customer. She cared about cooking as much as I cared about astronomy—in other words, not at all—but she used the excuse of the specials to stay and chat with me at the counter.

—What's the special today, kid? —she'd ask, resting her elbows on the counter, perfectly aware that I'd already told her.

My shift ran from six in the evening until closing. In summer, I got out at two in the morning on weekends; during the week, at midnight. Since we both hung out at the same club, it was normal for us to run into each other. The second time we crossed paths, we went for a drink before each of us left with our own group.

—You can't come straight from work —she told me, wrinkling her nose as she laughed—. No matter how much cologne you put on, you smell horribly like food. You need a shower.

She was right. When you work in a kitchen, you can change clothes and drown yourself in perfume, but the smell of frying oil seeps into your skin.

—And what do you suggest? —I replied—. They haven't got the shower working at the shop yet; only freezing water comes out.

—Don't be silly. We'll sort it out. Stop by my place and take a proper shower. I won't get to the club before two-thirty anyway, so you've got plenty of time.

The offer was tempting: a hot shower, clean clothes, and then a night out. But something told me it wouldn't be free.

—I accept. What do you want in return?

—Obviously, something —she laughed—. Bring me food from the shop. Empanadas, a pizza, whatever. You know I don't have money to spare. You shower, I eat dinner. Deal?

—Deal.

***

The first Friday, I stopped outside her door after one in the morning, carrying a box of still-warm empanadas under my arm. Marina opened the door in flip-flops, her hair hastily tied back. The apartment was a charming mess: the bed unmade, clothes scattered everywhere, glasses with the remains of something on the table, and books piled on a chair. Nothing like the monastic order Sofía had kept when she lived there.

—Tidiness isn't my thing —she said with a shrug—. While I straighten up a bit, take a shower. You smell so much like breaded cutlets I want to bite you.

—And what am I supposed to wear afterward? I only brought what I have on.

—There's a pair of shorts and a T-shirt of yours in the bathroom that you left last time. Go on.

I went into the bathroom, and the first thing I saw was a tiny thong hanging from the faucet: barely a triangle of translucent fabric with pale-blue trim, and a thin string at the back. I picked it up without thinking, brought it to my nose, and filled my lungs with the smell of clean pussy and sweet perfume. My cock hardened right there, against my jeans. I put it back and stepped under the hot water, using her shampoo, her scented soap, and an incredibly soft towel. Let's be honest: that garment had made me imagine her wearing it, and I came out of the bathroom with my head somewhere else and my cock still half-hard.

As if by magic, she'd put almost everything in order. She was putting my work clothes in the washing machine with hers.

—I saw I'd left a thong hanging there —she said without turning around—. I hope you didn't do anything weird with it. I know you like those little things. Sofía and I had no secrets.

—Oh, no secrets? What else do you know?

—Several things. But now's not the time. We'll have dinner, and afterward, if you want, we'll talk about everything.

We ate quietly, talking about anything and everything, avoiding the hot topics. Then we smoked a cigarette sitting on the edge of the bed. I asked her about Sofía, about how her life had changed since she'd left, and Marina shifted onto her side to face me.

—Look, kid —she said, slowly exhaling smoke—. I know you and Sofía had an arrangement. No feelings, just having fun. But she faltered. She was one step away from giving herself over, and that scared her. That's why she went back. You shook up her world, and she didn't dare accept it.

—I find that hard to believe.

—Believe it. Fucking for pleasure is one thing; it's another when you start giving yourself over. And she was giving herself over. Do you know how many times she turned me on telling me how you two used to roll around together? She told me everything: how you grabbed her hair to fuck her from behind, how you made her come with your tongue until she was trembling, how you filled her mouth with cum and she swallowed every drop. I never would have agreed to something like that.

—Don't say that, Marina.

—Why not? If you turn me on, we'll roll around together and that's that. The difference between Sofía and me is simple: my hand doesn't shake. There are no feelings involved, just desire. I want a cock that makes me come, period.

She said it while holding my gaze, without an ounce of embarrassment. She was a woman without filters, the kind who said exactly what she felt. We finished our beer, she took down my nearly dry clothes, and before we said goodbye, she suggested a couples' club she wanted to visit.

—But bring clothes to shower in —she added with a wink—, or I'll bite you. There's hunger here.

We said goodbye with a short kiss on the lips, almost casually. The sun was already coming up when I reached home, and my unease about her was rising too.

***

The next day I stopped by early to leave her my clothes so she'd have them ready. She opened the door only after waking up, wearing a long T-shirt that barely covered her thighs and nothing underneath—it was obvious from a mile away.

—Want some mate? —she asked—. I'm going to take a quick shower.

I prepared the thermos while she went into the bathroom. After a while she called from inside and asked me to bring her the towel and the clothes from the drying rack. I took down the vanilla thong—the same one I'd seen the day before—a very worn, pale-colored T-shirt, and a huge pink towel. When I brought everything to her, she opened the door just a crack, and in the mirror's reflection I caught sight of her naked, wet, generous body: her large breasts, nipples dark and hard from the cold water, the soft belly of a mature woman, and that neat triangle of hair between her thighs that made me swallow hard.

She came out minutes later wrapped in steam, her wet hair dampening the T-shirt that clung to her breasts, the thong outlining the triangle between her legs. Her nipples showed through the wet fabric, two dark circles burned into my retinas. My body reacted instantly, and my cock showed hard against my trousers.

—Well, well —she said, looking at my crotch with a crooked smile—. Did we wake up in a good mood?

—Don't tease me, Marina. You're practically naked.

—Being naked would be the least of it. I woke up horny. I thought about that mouth of yours all night.

She sat on the bed with her legs crossed and a little bottle of nail polish in her hand, ready to paint her toenails. From my chair I had a privileged view: her bare thighs, the wet fabric marking her pubis with a perfect line between her lips, the T-shirt clinging to her skin and showing the outlines of her areolas. When she leaned forward to reach her toes, the shirt rode up in back and let me see the curve of her huge ass, barely covered by the thong's thin string.

—You're going to have to learn to do this —she said, struggling to reach her right foot—. It's an uncomfortable position, and it leaves me completely exposed. Do you like seeing me like this?

—Who wouldn't?

—Thank goodness you behave like a gentleman. Someone else would have sent that nail polish flying by now.

Her words provoked something strange in me: an overwhelming urge to move forward, and at the same time, fear that she'd stop me. I prepared some mate, trying to hide my erection. I looked at the clock; it was time to leave for work. I stood up, grabbed my backpack, and walked toward the door. She got up to see me out, careful not to ruin her nails.

—You're unbelievable —she protested—. I told you I was horny, I showed you everything, and what did you do? Make me mate.

—If I'd done anything, I wouldn't have made it to work.

She came closer, hugged me, and kissed me with nothing timid about it anymore. She pushed her tongue deep inside, sucking on mine and biting my lip while rubbing her breasts against my chest and squeezing my cock through my trousers. She shoved me against the door and sought me out with her hips, grinding against my bulge. I kissed her back and grabbed her ass firmly, digging my fingers into its soft flesh while our tongues sought one another desperately.

—Don't go —she murmured against my mouth, never stopping her grinding—. Stay a while. Look at me, touch me.

She guided my hand to her crotch. The thong was soaked—not with shower water, but with her own hot, viscous juice, leaking between her lips. I pushed it aside and plunged two fingers in to the knuckles. Her pussy sucked them in at once, squeezing me, warm and slippery as a mouth.

—If I stay, we'll end up fucking. And I have to work.

—Then don't leave me like this. Do something and go. Eat me, come on, eat me the way you did Sofía.

I lifted her into my arms, settled her legs around my waist, and carried her to the bed. I laid her down, tore off her T-shirt in one pull, and pulled the thong down over her feet. I took a second to look at her: her large breasts falling to either side, erect nipples pointing toward the ceiling, her belly rising and falling rapidly, and between her open thighs, her swollen, glistening pussy crying out for attention. I positioned myself between her legs, grabbed her ass with both hands, and put my tongue to her at once, licking her from top to bottom, from her asshole to her clitoris.

—Oh, fuck! —she gasped, arching her back—. That's it, kid, don't stop.

I opened her lips with my fingers and devoted myself to her clitoris. At first I sucked it slowly, extending my tongue to draw circles around it; then I caught it between my lips and began sucking it as if it were a tiny cock. She writhed, grabbed her breasts, pinched her nipples, and muttered curses while pressing my head against her pussy.

—Put it in me, put your fingers in me, come on.

I sank two fingers inside her and began moving them quickly, searching for her G-spot while I kept sucking her clitoris. Her pussy dripped, filling my mouth and wetting my chin. I felt her open wider and tense all over until she burst with a muffled cry against the pillow, squeezing my head between her thighs and digging her heels into my back. I kept licking her gently, gathering every drop, while she trembled and breathed unevenly.

—What Sofía was missing out on —she said afterward, breathless, with a loose smile—. You've got a golden tongue, you son of a bitch.

—I have to go, Marina. We'll continue later.

—You're leaving without anything for yourself? How cruel. At least let me suck you off quickly.

—I told you. If we continue, I won't make it to work. Tonight, when I come over to shower, we'll take care of it. And you'll suck me all the way, nice and easy.

—Get out of here, damn you, before I tie you to the bed.

***

That night she showed up at the shop around eleven and ordered half a dozen empanadas to go. Before leaving, she winked at me and whispered, “I'll be waiting for you later.” The hours until closing dragged endlessly, and I had to adjust my cock in my trousers more than once, because the mere thought of getting inside her kept me hard all night. When we pulled down the shutter, I flew around restocking drinks and arranging glasses. I covered the hundred and fifty meters to her door practically floating.

But she was already dressed to go out, with my clothes spread across the bed. There would be no action that night—not yet: we were going to the famous couples' club she'd reserved. The place was called Penumbra, and it lived up to its name. A tiny dance floor, sofas separated by high partitions, almost no light at all. The waiters moved around with faint flashlights so they wouldn't bump into anyone. Slow music played at an extremely low volume, interrupted now and then by a moan coming from one of the private booths. A genuine den for lovers.

They brought us drinks and a plate of sandwiches. We could barely make out silhouettes moving in the darkness, and you didn't have to be very bright to understand what was happening there. We went to dance a slow number, pressed tightly together: I placed my hard cock against her belly, and she moved slowly, grinding against me with her hands around my neck. When she broke away to go to the bathroom, on the way back I saw a woman riding her companion on a sofa, her bare breasts bouncing against the man's face as she sank her hips down onto his cock; another woman on her knees in front of hers, sucking it with sunken cheeks, swallowing it whole; and an entire couple giving themselves over in a corner, the man fucking her from behind while the woman held on to the backrest, her dress raised to her waist and her breasts hanging free. An orgy in the half-light.

—I can't believe it —Marina said when she returned, weaving around bodies—. They fuck their lives away in here, and the waiters don't even blink. I saw some chick in the hallway with a guy's hand buried in her panties up to the elbow.

—I bet most of them are having affairs. It's a place for forbidden encounters.

She leaned close to my ear and whispered while slipping her hand between my legs and squeezing my cock through my trousers:

—If you don't get me out of here and fuck me within the next hour, I'll climb onto that sofa beside us and let anyone fuck me. I'm dripping, kid. I can't take it anymore.

An hour later, we asked for the check. Once we were in the car, she sat sideways and took a red thong from her coat pocket.

—I took it off when I went to the bathroom —she confessed, laughing—. I thought I'd work up the nerve to imitate the other women, but I couldn't. I got so turned on. I want to fuck now.

She brought the fabric to my nose so I could smell that woman's perfume mixed with the vanilla I already knew. The thong was soaked and stiff with juice.

—Your choice: a motel or the apartment.

—The apartment —I said, sending my right hand toward her crotch.

I lifted her dress and opened her legs right there in the car. Her pussy was so wet my fingers slipped in by themselves, with a wet sound that drove me even crazier. I began moving them inside her while pressing her clitoris with my thumb. She writhed in the seat, arching her hips and gripping my wrist so I wouldn't pull my fingers out.

—Drive, come on, drive faster —she gasped—, or you'll make me come here and we won't get there.

—That's right, tonight you're sleeping with me. You're not going to your bed.

***

We went in kissing, without turning on the lights, because we knew the route by heart. Our clothes fell wherever they fell: her dress in the entryway, my shirt in the hall, her bra hanging from a chair. By the time we reached the bedroom, we were both completely naked. A reflection filtering through the window guided us to the bed. She pushed me down and I fell onto my back; she looked me up and down, bent over, and grabbed my cock with her right hand, squeezing it from the base.

—Look what you've got here, you son of a bitch —she said, running her tongue over her lips—. Now it's my turn.

She knelt between my legs and took me into her mouth at once, swallowing me halfway, pulling back to spit on the tip before going down again. She sucked hungrily and noisily, cheeks hollowed, one hand caressing my balls. She looked up at me with shining eyes, enjoying every inch. She pulled me out and licked my entire length, then took me back in until I felt the head hit the back of her throat.

—Promise you'll eat me again —she pleaded, spitting on my cock and spreading the saliva over it with her hand—. I loved it. No one has ever made me come like that with their mouth.

—Whatever you ask.

She turned until her sex was facing my mouth and spread her legs, bracing herself against my chest so I could reach as deeply as possible. She ended up above me in sixty-nine, her swollen pussy millimeters from my face and my cock going back into her mouth. I didn't disappoint her. I grabbed her ass with both hands, spread her cheeks, and drove my tongue between her lips. I explored every inch of her, slowly at first and then eagerly: I sucked her clitoris, put my tongue in her hole, slid it up to her asshole, and came back down. She moaned with my cock in her mouth, and the vibrations traveled all the way up my shaft.

I thrust two fingers inside her and searched for her inner spot while sucking her clitoris. Marina moved in circles over me, setting the pace, rubbing her pussy against my face and soaking me to the chin. She came once in a long tremor, squeezing my head between her thighs, but she didn't stop; she kept seeking me out with her hips, kept sucking me harder, until I felt her tremble again and come a second time, leaving my face drenched.

—It feels so good —she murmured hoarsely—. Don't stop, kid, give me more, eat it all.

I couldn't take it anymore; I was so hard it hurt. When she finally asked for it, she turned around and settled astride me, grabbed my cock, and guided it into her pussy from above. She lowered herself slowly, impaling herself bit by bit, feeling every inch slide inside until she felt it touch bottom. She closed her eyes and let out a long moan.

—Oh, fuck, you're filling me up so much.

She rode me for several long minutes, giving herself over completely, her breasts bouncing in my face as she moved up and down. I gripped her hips and helped her move, watching her large breasts swing back and forth, her nipples hard as stones. I caught one in my mouth and sucked it hard while she sank down faster and faster. The bed creaked under our combined weight, and the wet sound of her pussy slapping against my pelvis filled the room.

—Give it to me, give it to me, that's it, don't stop —she gasped, digging her nails into my chest.

I grabbed her firmly and stopped her. I was on the edge and didn't want to finish like that. I lifted her and put her on all fours on the bed, arranging her ass high in the air. I slapped each cheek and positioned myself behind her. I ran the tip along her wet slit, rubbing it from her clitoris to her asshole, and sank into her with one hard thrust, all the way to the balls.

—Oh, fuck! —she cried, burying her face in the pillow—. That's it, fuck me hard.

I started fucking her seriously, without mercy, gripping her hips and pulling her against my cock with every thrust. Her big ass shook with every blow, and her breasts hung beneath her, swaying. I bent over her back and grabbed her hair, pulling her head back as I drove deeper.

—I want to come inside you —I told her in her ear, never stopping my thrusts.

—Put on a condom and do it —she replied, gasping—. I don't want to get pregnant. I'm in my fertile days and incredibly horny, but I'm not stupid. Pull it out and put on a rubber, come on, but fuck me, don't stop.

I pulled out reluctantly, grabbed a condom from the nightstand, put it on in two seconds with hands clumsy from desire, and sank back into her pussy. She pushed against me, trying to take my entire cock. I kept fucking her on all fours for a while longer, then turned her over, put her on her back, draped her legs over my shoulders, and sank in again, looking into her eyes as I drove all the way to the bottom. She grabbed her breasts, squeezed them, pinched her nipples, and watched me fuck her like a madwoman.

—Come on, come inside me, I want to feel you —she pleaded, clinging to my back with her nails—. Give me everything. Don't leave me empty.

I fucked her like that for several more minutes, with her arching beneath me, until I felt her come again, contracting around my cock and squeezing me like a wet fist. That was what pushed me over the edge: I clenched my teeth and came inside her with three long thrusts, filling the condom, feeling my balls empty while she dug her nails into my buttocks and pulled at my back. Only then did she relax and collapse beside me.

—If you'd put it in bare, I'd have gotten pregnant for sure —she said, catching her breath, her hand still between her legs—. I'm at my most fertile. When it hits me like this, I can't stop. I know the risk and take it anyway, but today I needed this.

—Is it really that intense?

—You have no idea. Everything inside me is boiling, and the moment someone touches me, I spread my legs. What happened this afternoon left me crazy all day. At work I couldn't sit down without squeezing my thighs together.

We rested for a while in each other's arms, and a couple of hours later we started again. She woke me by sucking me slowly, easing me out of a heavy sleep. When I opened my eyes, she already had me hard in her mouth and was climbing onto me again, without a condom this time, gripping me to guide it in and staying still for a moment, feeling me inside her with nothing between us.

—Just for a little while like this —she murmured—, then put on a rubber. I want to feel you skin to skin.

She moved bare for a few minutes, slowly, savoring every inch, until she made me pull out, put on another condom, and mounted me again. She rode me slowly with her eyes closed, touching her clitoris as she sank down. Then I turned her onto her side, spooning her, and slid into her from behind, gripping one breast with one hand and her clitoris with the other. She came again, longer this time, trembling all over against my chest, and I followed her, emptying myself a second time inside the condom. It was true: she ignited on her own and never let up. She left me utterly wrecked.

***

The next morning she was calmer. We made breakfast just as we were, both naked and in no hurry. She walked around the kitchen with her breasts bare and her ass marked by hours of fucking, while I watched her from the table like a drooling idiot. We showered together: I soaped her all over, washed her hair, and ran my hand between her thighs until she leaned against the tiles and asked me to make her come one more time with my fingers. I positioned her with her back against the wall, spread her legs, and worked her clitoris with my thumb while thrusting two fingers into her pussy until she came trembling, biting my shoulder to keep from screaming. We went back to bed to regain our strength.

—If we keep seeing each other —she said, playing with my hair—, next time we're this horny we'll spend the night at a motel. I want the full luxury treatment: a Jacuzzi, plenty of time, no watching the clock, and you can suck me as much as you want. How does that sound?

—It sounds perfect. If we managed it in a twin bed, imagine what we can do in a real one.

—I still owe you something —she added with a smile—. Today I needed to fuck, and I didn't give you everything I'd planned. You still haven't put it in my ass, for example. Next time I'll make good on that.

The promise hung in the air, but that's another story. What I can say is that our deal—food in exchange for a shower—ended up costing me, and giving me, far more than either of us had calculated.