The Mature Woman Who Showed Up at My Door After the Grapes

After that first date with Marisa, the one at the movies and what came afterward at her place, I knew I was getting hooked on her like a kid. I kept thinking about her voice, the way she’d looked at me when we said goodbye, the sentence she’d whispered in my ear before closing the door. I couldn’t get her out of my head, and that was exactly what she wanted.

We talked every day. Good morning messages, long voice notes at night, silly photos of what she was having for dinner or the book she was reading. We talked about everything except sex, and that was the trap. Every conversation left me wanting more, needing to set up another date that she never quite finished granting me.

—If you want my ass —she’d told me that day— you’re going to have to earn it.

The line drilled into my brain. I wanted her, all of her, but she wouldn’t give me an opening. She kept me waiting, measuring desire over a low flame, and I let myself get cooked without protesting.

The holidays arrived and I considered the date impossible. We both had family commitments, dinners, nephews, mothers-in-law. I’d resigned myself to the idea that this was going to be a single encounter, a good memory and not much else.

***

On the morning of the thirty-first, I woke up to a message from her. Good morning and a question: what plans I had for that night. I told her the truth, the usual dinner at home, helping with the preparations, taking care of the visitors, last-minute errands. She had similar obligations. We agreed to wish each other a happy New Year after the grapes, with no more promises.

Dinner unfolded like every year. Too much food, the usual toasts, the grapes counted out of rhythm amid laughter. A few minutes after midnight, my phone vibrated in my pocket.

It was a temporary photo from Marisa. A small suitcase open on a bed, a pair of very high heels resting on top, and the plug from our last date placed beside it like a declaration of intent. I stared at the screen, my heart racing.

I replied awkwardly, and her answer came right away: she was waiting for me in an hour at my front door. We had to start the year properly, she wrote, and she’d tell me the rest later. I started saying goodbye to my family, making up some excuse or other.

Another message before I even reached the car.

—I’m on my way. Be on time and don’t stop smiling the way you are right now as you read this.

It came with a photo of her legs inside the car, the same heels, fishnet stockings that dried my mouth up. She was right. I was grinning like an idiot in the middle of the street.

***

I parked, got out of the garage, and there was her car, this time locked. I saw her coming toward me with her blonde mane loose in the cold air, perfectly made up, smiling at me like someone who’s already won before the game even starts.

I went up to greet her as she opened the car door. She was wearing a thick coat left open, the stockings and heels from the photo, but underneath she was showing off a black-and-blue lingerie set, with lace and sheer panels, and a garter belt holding up the stockings. She looked spectacular, radiating confidence, in command of every centimeter of the situation.

We melted into a kiss. We mixed tongues, bit each other’s lips, and my hands slipped under her coat to roam over her body. The set fit her tightly, as if it had been painted onto her skin. We wished each other a happy new year wrapped in an embrace, and I felt her hand slide down toward my pants and grip me firmly over the fabric, smiling against my mouth.

I returned the caress by sliding my hands down to her ass. It was a thong bodysuit, the fabric wedged between her cheeks, leaving them almost naked. I squeezed hard, started playing, and my fingers slid toward the center. Something caught me by surprise. By touch I realized she was wearing the anal plug.

I smiled against her neck. I began pressing it in and letting it out, slowly at first, faster after that, while I kept kissing her. She stopped kissing me, bit her lower lip, and started moaning very softly.

—Don’t stop —she whispered in my ear—. I want to come right here, in the street, leaning against the car.

I kept moving while kissing her neck and nibbling her earlobe. Her moans turned continuous, held in, until I felt her legs trembling. She came like that, in silence, complicit and discreet, clinging to me in the middle of the freezing night. We stayed still for a couple of minutes, catching our breath, until she asked me to go upstairs to my place.

We took her suitcase, she locked the car, and we crossed hand in hand toward the building entrance. In the reflection of the glass I saw her gaze still unsettled by the orgasm.

***

In the elevator we kissed again. She unbuttoned my pants and freed my cock with a pull of my boxer briefs. It shot out, swollen, hard, the veins standing out, with a thickness that wouldn’t fit entirely in her hand.

—Open the door like that —she ordered, amused.

I didn’t care if I ran into some neighbor on the landing with my cock out. I just wanted to get inside.

Once in the apartment, she left the suitcase in the living room and took off her coat. Then I saw her properly and my breath caught. At forty-nine years old, she was a goddess. The set sat on her as if it had been sewn onto her body, the heels lengthening a pair of firm legs, and the perky ass was barely covered by the bodysuit fabric.

She asked me where the bedroom was. I pointed it out, she grabbed my cock, and, pulling me gently, led me to my own room as if the house belonged to her.

***

She climbed onto the bed on all fours. She undid the bodysuit clasps, which barely covered her sex, and left the plug exposed. It wasn’t the same one as last time. This one ended in a purple base that imitated a jewel, bigger, more imposing.

—Kneel behind me, on the floor —she ordered—. I want your face right here.

I obeyed. Her ass and her cunt were at the perfect height for me. She rested her head on the mattress and, with her fingers, parted her lips.

—Eat, asshole. Look at what you’ve done to me —she said in a rough voice.

I started licking her clit with a lot of suction. I traced circles with my tongue, faster and faster each time. When I felt she was close, I eased off and moved over her sex from top to bottom until my tongue met the metallic taste of the plug’s base. She growled, complained, ordered me back to what I was doing before and not to stop.

I obeyed, of course. She knew exactly what she wanted and wouldn’t let me improvise. I went back to circles on her button, quick, agile. Her moans sped up. I shoved one finger into her soaked cunt, then two, never stopping the suction. A third, while I moved my fingers in a half circle inside her.

She started screaming, convulsing, and she came. My fingers were soaked, liquid gushing out hard. I kept licking until she stopped trembling.

—Wait, one minute —she panted.

Those minutes felt eternal as I watched her. I took the opportunity to pull off my pants and boxer briefs and stand naked in front of her, hard, with a bit of fluid beading at the tip. She kept staring at me. She grabbed my cock with one hand and started jerking me off, while with the other she gathered her own fluid to spread it over my shaft.

She squeezed my balls, looked at me, smiled, and took the whole thing into her mouth. No gagging, no effort, all the way to the back. She pulled it out, gave the tip a few precise licks, and I took the chance to push it back in slowly. She tasted me, pressing her lips around me as much as she could without letting go of me.

***

After a few minutes of sucking me off, she got back on all fours on the bed. She took out the plug, thicker than the one from the previous date, and the sight was incredible. A perfect ass, the entrance stretched and ready.

—Fuck my ass —she ordered bluntly—. I want to feel full with that thick cock. I’ve never had one this thick in there. I want it now.

It reassured me that she was so direct, so explicit. I placed the tip at her entrance and started pushing. It slid in with astonishing ease, centimeter by centimeter. It wasn’t difficult, it didn’t hurt. She even moved her hips back so it would go in faster.

When I almost had the whole thing inside, she threw her head back.

—Slowly —she asked—. Pick up the pace little by little. I want to enjoy it properly.

I obeyed, how could I not obey. I knew I wouldn’t last long. Her body took my cock with a maddening perfection and the thrusts grew stronger with every moment. I felt her slip a hand between her legs and stroke herself while she brushed my balls.

—I’m going to come —I warned her—. Inside.

She convulsed again, screamed, moaned, and her orgasm mixed with mine. I flooded her ass while her squirt soaked the sheets and the floor. We came at the same time, a fast, abundant climax that left us without strength.

I pulled out carefully and we stayed lying there, panting, looking at each other. We burst out laughing for no reason, like two accomplices who’ve just pulled off a prank.

The year had begun and only two hours had passed.

This promises a lot, I thought. And from the way she was looking at me, I knew the night still had more surprises in store.