The Mature Woman I Was Obsessed With Caught Me

My name is Rubén. I’m fifty-one years old and, besides a comfortable marriage and a daughter who’s already out on her own, I have a passion that keeps me sane: the guitar. Four lifelong friends and I formed a band, and we cover eighties rock in bars and village festivals. One of those friends is Dani, my stage partner for almost thirty years.

I’m telling you this because it all started one afternoon in his living room, with the guitars propped on the sofa and two beers half-finished on the table. We had met up to run through a couple of songs, but we’d gone half an hour without touching a single string. We were talking about Marisa.

Marisa is Andrés’s wife, another acquaintance from the scene. She’s forty-six, with a dark mane that brushes her shoulders and a way of moving that seems designed to make the rest of the world stop and look at her. She’s not a girl: she’s a fully formed woman, with curves she doesn’t hide and a confidence that only years can give. Big, firm tits that fill your hand and then some; a round, perky ass that tugs at her jeans every time she bends over. And she knows it. Oh, she knows it.

—I’m serious —Dani kept insisting, laughing—. That woman enjoys making us nervous. The other day at rehearsal she came over to say hello and rested her hand on my chest. That was all. And I went stupid as a kid, with my dick rock-hard under the bass.

—You’re not the only one —I admitted—. Something similar happened to me at the barbecue in June. She asked me some dumb thing about the amp and leaned forward as if no one else were in the garden. You could see the edge of her black bra and the start of those huge tits. I’ve spent six months jerking off thinking about that image.

—She’s a textbook tease. She knows exactly what she’s doing and loves it.

—The worst part is, it works —I said, and my mouth went dry just saying her name.

We kept at it for a while, feeding each other, swapping details neither of us would have admitted in front of our wives. How she sat. How she crossed her legs. That green dress at the last village fair, the one that made her nipples show every time the night breeze came through. The conversation got hotter, and I could feel my body responding without permission, uncomfortable on the sofa, my cock straining against my fly and a stupid heat building where it had no business being.

—The thing is, I’ve got it in for her —Dani confessed, lowering his voice even though there was no one around—. If Marisa ever really came on to me, I don’t know if I’d have the decency to say no. I’d fuck that woman on my knees, seriously.

—Neither of us would —I muttered—. I’ve spent months imagining how she must suck it. How she must cum. Everything.

And right then, from the hallway, a voice I knew all too well said it all.

—Well, well. And who might that be, the one getting the two of you so worked up?

***

I turned so fast I nearly spilled my beer. Marisa was leaning in the doorway, in tight jeans and a white blouse half unbuttoned so the lace of her bra showed through, her arms crossed under her chest in a way that pushed it up even more, and a smile that was anything but innocent. She’d come to return an oven dish to Dani’s wife; she’d let herself in with her spare key, and no one had heard her arrive.

—Marisa —I managed to say, feeling my ears burn.

—No, no, keep going, keep going —she said, amused, not uncrossing her arms—. I don’t want to interrupt. It was clearly getting interesting. Especially the part about blowjobs.

Dani muttered something about going to get water and vanished into the kitchen like a coward, leaving me alone in front of her. Marisa walked in slowly and sat on the armrest of the chair, right across from me. She crossed her legs. Of course she crossed her legs, and the jeans tightened over her thighs and over that crotch that had already become an obsession for me.

—You’re blushing, Rubén —she observed, tilting her head—. Should I be worried?

Please, don’t let it show. Don’t let it show.

—It’s hot in here —I said, and even to me it sounded ridiculous.

—It’s hot —she repeated, savoring the words—. I see.

She dropped her gaze for a second, just an instant, enough to confirm the bulge warping my trousers. When she looked back up, her smile was wider and more dangerous. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. I felt the floor open beneath my feet and my cock jerk with embarrassment and need.

—Well, I won’t keep you any longer —she announced, getting to her feet with exasperating calm—. I only came to drop this off. But, Rubén… —she leaned toward me, close enough that her cleavage opened up in front of my face and her perfume wrapped around me completely—, I’m dying to know the name of that muse of yours. Maybe one of these days you’ll tell me.

—Maybe —I managed to answer, my eyes glued to the valley between her tits.

She pulled her phone from the back pocket of her trousers, and when she did, her ass was rounded and firm, and she held it out to me.

—Put your number in here. In case you feel like confessing.

I entered it with trembling hands. She gave me a missed call so I’d have her number, winked at me, and headed for the door. Before leaving, she turned back.

—When you leave, call me —she said, with no trace of joking in her voice—. I’ll be alone all afternoon. Andrés is away until Sunday. And it’s been a long time since I’ve been fucked properly, Rubén.

Then she left, leaving me with my heart pounding against my ribs, my cock hard as a rock and one uncomfortable certainty: that hadn’t been a goodbye. It had been a date.

***

I held out for twenty more minutes with Dani while pretending to tune. He didn’t ask anything and I didn’t tell him anything, but we both knew something had broken in the air inside that house. When I finally said goodbye and went down to the street, I stood for a while leaning against the car, debating. I was married. She was married to an acquaintance. There were a thousand reasons to get in the car, go home, and forget it.

I dialed her number.

—I was just starting to think you’d lost your nerve —she answered on the first ring.

—Almost —I confessed—. Marisa, this is madness.

—The best things usually are. Are you buying me a drink or not? There’s a quiet place two streets from your house. The one on the corner with the maroon awnings. I’ll wait for you there in fifteen minutes. And come ready, because I’ve been wet as hell since you said “maybe.”

I didn’t even get time to answer. She hung up.

The drive felt endless and too short at the same time. I kept replaying the scene in the living room: her eyes dropping, her smile when she confirmed the bulge, the last line. When I parked in front of the bar, I was already so hard I had to readjust my cock in my briefs, and I felt like a teenager who couldn’t control his own body.

She was already at the door, waiting for me. She’d unfastened one more button on her blouse, and now the swell of her breasts pushing against the lace was visible without any disguise.

—You came —she said, pleased—. Good boy. With what’s on my mind, if you stand me up I’ll have to pick up somebody else tonight.

***

We went in. The place was dimly lit, nearly empty at that hour, with soft music playing in the background. Marisa walked ahead of me toward a table in the back, and she did it slowly, marking each step, moving her hips with an intent that left no room for doubt. I followed her, hypnotized, unable to look away from the curve of her back, from those two round ass cheeks shifting under her jeans as if asking to be bitten.

We reached the table and she turned abruptly, catching me.

—You were staring at my ass —she said, with not a hint of reproach.

—Of course —I replied, and for the first time all afternoon it didn’t sound ridiculous—. Though I think you were moving it on purpose so I would.

—Maybe. —She sat down and let her blouse open a little more, enough that the edge of one breast’s areola showed above her bra—. And do you like what you see?

—I’ve liked it since the barbecue in June. And I’ve been jerking off thinking about your tits ever since.

She let out a low, rough laugh, delighted.

—So it was me. The muse. I knew it. —She leaned over the table and lowered her voice until it became a whisper—. I like it when a man says filthy things to my face. I realized a long time ago how Dani and you look at me. And you know what? I like it. I like knowing that two grown men jerk off thinking about me. But today I’ve decided enough’s enough of all the teasing and nothing happening. I’m tired of making myself horny and then going home alone, sticking two fingers in me, and falling asleep frustrated.

She ordered two gin and tonics that we barely touched. They weren’t needed. The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, and we both knew it. Under the table, her bare foot slid up my calf, my knee, and planted itself directly on my cock, pressing it with her hot sole. I held back a gasp.

—It’s hard —she noted, never stopping moving her foot—. Very hard.

—I’ve been like this all afternoon, Marisa.

—Poor thing. —She smiled, cruelly—. You know what I’m going to do to you? I’m going to suck you off first. Very slowly. And then you’re going to fuck me like you hate me. How does that sound?

A growl escaped me. She pulled her foot away, stood up, and set the glass on the table with a final gesture.

—I’m going to the bathroom for a minute —she said, staring straight at me—. Count to twenty and come.

She got up and disappeared down the back corridor. I stayed there watching the ice melt in my glass, counting, my pulse racing. This is beyond turning back now. At twenty I stood up, my cock obscene in my trousers.

***

The hallway was dim, and the bathroom at the end had the door ajar. I pushed it open. Marisa was inside, leaning against the sink, waiting for me. As soon as I stepped in, she reached out, grabbed my shirt, and pulled me inside. The lock clicked behind my back.

—I’ve spent all day imagining this —she murmured against my mouth.

I kissed her. I kissed her like I hadn’t kissed anyone in years, with months of hunger built up, biting her lower lip and thrusting my tongue in deep, and she answered with the same intensity, sucking on me, moaning deep in my mouth. Her hands climbed my chest, my neck, tangled in my hair, and then went straight down to my fly and squeezed my cock through my trousers with a firmness that made me see stars.

—Fuck, you’re hard —she whispered against my lips—. And so thick. Jesus, Rubén, that’s how you’ve been the whole time on Dani’s sofa.

—The whole time, and long before that.

I pressed her against the sink and tore open her blouse, not patient enough for buttons. I unclipped her bra from the front and her tits spilled out, full and white, with dark, erect nipples pointing at me. I lunged at them. I sucked one nipple while kneading the other breast with my hand, biting, tugging with my lips, and she threw her head back and dug her nails into my nape.

—Yes… like that… suck them hard —she panted—. Andrés forgot years ago that these tits need attention.

I ran my tongue between both breasts, up her neck and back down, sucking the other nipple until it was red and glossy. She didn’t let me keep going much longer. She shoved at my shoulders until I was on my knees in front of the sink, while she unbuttoned her jeans with impatient fingers.

—Get them off me —she ordered—. And the panties too. I want you to eat my pussy until I forget my name.

I pulled her jeans down over her hips, over her thighs, to her knees. Underneath she wore tiny black panties that were soaked through, with such a big wet patch it had bled through the fabric. I pulled those down too and there it was, right in front of my face, Marisa’s cunt: almost completely shaved, with a short line of dark hair over the pubis, swollen lips, glossy, parted with desire. She smelled like a hot woman, like pure sex, and my last resistance collapsed.

I spread her legs with my hands, breathed on her first, and then drove my tongue deep between her lips, from bottom to top, tasting her completely. Marisa let out a moan so long she had to bite her fist to smother it.

—God… Rubén… don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop…

I didn’t stop. I sucked her clit, wrapped my lips around it, drew it slowly, then faster, alternating the rhythm while I slid two fingers into her and curled them inside her, searching for that spot that would make her melt. And I found it. Marisa thrust her hips forward, grabbed my hair with both hands, and started fucking my face without a shred of shame, rubbing her wet cunt against my mouth.

—Use your tongue, all of it, like that… yes… deeper… my God you do it so well, fuck, you eat me so well…

I ate her cunt for several minutes until her thighs started trembling and the inner walls tightened around my fingers. She came like that, standing up, biting her hand so she wouldn’t scream, with all her juices spilling down my chin. And she hadn’t even finished cumming when she was already pulling me up off the floor by the hair.

—Now you —she panted, eyes glassy—. Take it out. Fast.

I unbuttoned my pants and yanked them down, briefs and all. My cock sprang free, hard, red, with the glans swollen and a thick drop of pre-cum on the tip. Marisa looked at it for a second, licked her lips, and sank to her knees on the cold tiles without taking her eyes off me.

—It’s beautiful —she murmured—. Thick. Just how I like it.

She grabbed it with both hands, leaned in, and licked the head first, circling it with her tongue, cleaning off the drop. Then she took it into her mouth whole, all the way to the back, until I felt it bump against her throat. And she started sucking me off like no one had in years. Hungry. Skilled. Unhurried.

—Fuck, Marisa… fuck…

Her mouth moved up and down the shaft, sucking with hollowed cheeks, while one hand fondled my balls and the other gave me a handjob in time with her mouth. Every so often she’d pull off, lick along the sides like it was an ice cream, suck my balls one by one, and then swallow me down again. Saliva dripped from her chin, mixed with the smeared lipstick, and she looked up at me from below with those dark eyes, enjoying every groan she dragged out of me.

—You’re going to make me cum if you keep that up —I growled.

She pulled my cock out of her mouth with a wet sound and smiled.

—Not yet. You’re not cumming yet. I want to feel it inside me first.

She stood, turned around, and braced her hands on the sink, arching her back and sticking her ass out toward me. She looked at herself in the fogged mirror and found me there in the reflection.

—Put it in me already —she ordered—. Drive it all the way in. And don’t be gentle.

I got behind her, grabbed her hips with both hands, and ran the head of my cock along the lips of her cunt, soaking myself. She shoved her ass back, impatient. I entered her in one thrust, all the way to the hilt, and both of us stifled a moan at once.

—Oh God… oh, you bastard, so thick… like that, like that…

I started fucking her without restraint, gripping her hips, pulling her toward me every time I thrust. Her tits bounced beneath her, loose, and in the mirror I could see her mouth opening in silent moans she bit back so they wouldn’t spill into the corridor. I slapped her ass and she moaned louder.

—Again —she begged—. Harder.

I slapped her again and left my handprint red on the white skin of her ass. Marisa pressed herself against me, purring.

—Andrés hasn’t touched me like this in years —she panted—. Did you know that? That’s why I tease. That’s why I need to feel desired. And you desire me. I can feel it in the way you’re pounding me.

—Like an animal —I admitted, fucking her harder—. I’ve wanted this all fucking afternoon.

I grabbed her mane, wrapped it around my fist, and tugged carefully, making her arch even more. She closed her eyes, bit her lip, and opened them again to stare at me in the mirror with an intensity that nearly made me cum right there.

—Don’t stop —she murmured—. Please, don’t stop. I’m going to cum again.

I fucked her faster, deeper, feeling how soaked her cunt was, how she squeezed me every time I pulled out, how the sound of our skin slapping together filled the tiny bathroom. I brought one hand around front and found her clit with my fingers, rubbing it in circles while I thrust into her. Marisa clenched her teeth.

—There… there… don’t stop, you son of a bitch, don’t stop… I’m cumming… I’m cumming…

She came a second time with my cock inside her, her whole body trembling, clamping down on me so hard I felt her crushing me from tip to base. And dragging me with her no matter what. I held out as long as I could, but when I realized it, it was already too late. I pulled out at the last second, pressed my cock against the small of her back, and came in hot spurts that splashed her skin, the base of her ass, and dripped down her hip. I let out a rough groan that she smothered by reaching a hand back to cover my mouth.

—Shhh —she whispered, with a satisfied smile in the mirror—. They’ll hear you, love.

We stayed like that for a few seconds, still locked together, catching our breath, my cum sliding down her skin and her eyes still locked on mine through the mirror.

***

Afterward we pulled ourselves together in silence, helping each other fasten what the other had undone, exchanging smiles like two accomplices. She tore off a handful of paper from the dispenser and wiped her back and hip with a calm I found obscene in its tranquility. She smoothed her hair, ran a finger over her smudged lips, and looked at me with an expression that no longer had anything of that distant tease from the barbecue. It was something closer. More human. More fucked.

—This isn’t going to be just once —she said, not as a question.

—No, not if it’s up to me —I answered.

—Good. —She gave me one last kiss, short, almost tender, and at the same time slid her hand over my trousers, checking that my cock was already starting to wake up again—. Next time you’re putting it in my ass. It’s been years since anyone did that to me.

—Whenever you want.

—You go out first. I’ll wait a couple of minutes. And Rubén… —she added when her hand was already on the latch—, not a word to Dani. Let him keep wondering who the muse is. And wondering how the muse sucks cock.

I went out into the hallway with my legs still shaky and my heart racing. I went back to the table, downed the watered-down gin and tonic, and left the money on the bar. When I stepped outside, the cool evening air brought me back to reality in one sudden blow: what had just happened, with whom, and how much my life had just been complicated.

And yet, as I got into the car, with the taste of her cunt still in my mouth and the smell of her sex on my hands, I was already thinking about when my phone would ring again with her name on the screen. Marisa had stopped being the unattainable woman I’d obsessed over from a distance. Now she was a secret. My secret. The woman I’d just fucked against a sink and the one I was going to fuck every time she asked me to. And I knew, with a certainty that both scared and excited me, that I would never have the willpower to give her up.