Gender: Male Age: Secret Location: N/A
|Introduction: This one is different from most of my stories.|
I Want To Be That Man
She sat down beside me, looked at me with sadness in her sky blue eyes, and spoke quietly, “I need to ask you a question, Don. You’ve been flirting with me for over two years. But… you’ve never been harsh or nasty. You’ve never touched my butt… or my boobs. You’ve never put you’re arms around me, except to hug me for my ‘employee of the year award’ and when my dad died. I have to ask you………. Do you really like me, or do you want to just get me in bed with you? I finally left my husband and I need somebody I can talk to, somebody I feel comfortable with, somebody I can call a friend.”
I stared back into those captivating eyes thinking, ‘Jack has to be the stupidest mother-fucker on earth. Tess is the hottest sixty year old woman west of the Mississippi… at least I think so. She might have winked at me a couple of times but she has NEVER given me any indication that she could, actually, care for me.’
We’ve worked together for nearly three years and from the first day I saw her, I wondered how a woman her age could still have such a fine body. 34-C tits and a tight little ass, which an eighteen year old would kill to have. She usually wore loose fitting clothes, but occasionally a t-shirt and some ‘poured-on’ jeans would walk through the door, catching the eye of every man AND woman in the store.
I knew she was married. I thought it was a happy one. Now, Tess made my mind explode… I had kept my love for her to myself for two years. Now… she was available.
The round lunchroom table made it easy to reach her hand. I took it. She placed her other one on mine and squeezed it between them. I saw a small tear begin its slide down her right cheek.
Here’s how I answered her question…
“I want to be that man who looks at your face when you wake up in the morning, and before you put on your make-up.
I want to be that man holding your hand at breakfast, drinking our coffee and watching the sunrise.
I want to be that man who walks past and pinches your beautiful butt while you brush your teeth, then make love to you as an apology.
I want to be that man who brags on your cooking, and listens as you tell me what was wrong with it.
I want to be that man with his arm around you walking through the park, your head on my shoulder and mine on top of yours.
I want to be that man your grandchildren to call ‘granddad’, with a smile on their face.
I want to be that man you greet at the door, with arms around my neck and smothering me with kisses.
I want to be that man that holds you in sad times and happy times, saying, ‘It’ll be alright’, or ‘Good for you’.
I want to be that man who is the proudest one in the restaurant, because I have the most wonderful woman on my arm, as I escort you to our table.
I want to be that man the others are talking about when they see you by my side and say, ‘That lucky son-of-a-bitch’.
I want to be that man who will use everything in his power protect you from anything that may upset or hurt you.
I want to be that man who looks into your eyes, every day, and says ‘I love you… I love you’.
And when he tells you ‘Happy Anniversary’ for the next twenty-five years in a row, I want to be that man.”
Tears were flowing down both sides, across her dimpled cheeks, and dropping to the table. But she was smiling…
“Wow! That was beautiful. You’re quite the sweet talker, Don. I’ve never heard any thing like that before. All along, I thought you were just wanting to get in my pants. With a line like that, you could have any woman.”
I handed her my handkerchief, raised her head with my hand under her chin, and said, “As far as sweet talking you into sharing my bed, fucking your brains out and sucking your pussy so hard it could cause your skull to cave in, yeah… I want to be that man.”
She punched my shoulder and called me an old turd. The buzzer sounded, so we went back to work.
Her husband met us at the front door at the end of our shift. I got pissed off at him the second he opened his mouth. He started chewing on Tess, who hadn’t had an easy day, “So, is the mother-fucker you’ve been sharing MY pussy with?”
He never saw my right hook until a split second before it cut a two inch gash in his left cheek. He staggered back, thinking he’d fight back, but my left caught his ribs and another right to his ear took him out of any comeback.
I straddled his prone figure, grabbed the bastard by the hair and whispered to him, “I’ll only say this one time, you stupid cock-sucker. Your wife has always been faithful to you, but if you ever even THINK about speaking another word to her, I’ll bury your ass in the creek bottom and let the buzzards, coyotes and worms finish your body. Never, never speak to her, or me again.”
It was two days before Tess quit crying. The weekend had been full of hugs and wet shoulders, but I didn’t want to scare or alienate her by trying to fuck her.
We talked, we ate, we watched TV, we slept. Friday night we fell asleep on the couch, holding each other. Saturday morning we were in pain from the uncomfortable positions we’d slept in.
Hot, individual, showers and a good breakfast helped, but heating pads and ice packs helped more. As I said, her crying was a constant throughout Saturday, Saturday night (when we slept in separate beds, dammit), and until Sunday afternoon.
Just as the Redskins game went into half-time, Tess flopped down in my lap, spilling a little of my beer.
Her arms wrapped around my neck and she hugged me, cheek to cheek. She kissed my cheek and looked me in the eyes, “I’m gonna be fine, Don, just fine. No more crying. No more being pissed off at him. No more feelings for him at all. You could have been having sex with me for the last two days, you know. I wouldn’t have stopped you, even if I wasn’t ready to go on. But… I’m ready now. I want to feel how making love is SUPPOSED to feel.
It was two days before my sixty-third birthday when I took Tess’ hand and led her to my bed. I held her tight in my arms and looked into her eyes, “I’ve loved you for a long time, you know. Never, never did I believe I’d be holding you like this.”
She drew my head to hers and our lips met. The softest, sweetest things my own had ever touched. Somehow, during our long kiss, our clothes disappeared and four hands began exploring two naked bodies.
I laid Tess on my bed and moved my mouth to her breasts, first one then the other. Her low moans were the music to me, and my baton was wanting to do the conducting.
Her smooth stomach was the most sensitive across her c-section scar. Her hands shoved my head lower, toward the patch of thin, light hair… “She’s a true blonde,” was the only thought that crossed my mind.
And there it was…
My lips and tongue went directly to work on labia and clit. I slipped a finger into her hole and was surprised to find it as tight as it was. It took a little time to get the second one worked in, but I curled both fingers up and began ‘walking’ them across her ‘g-spot’.
Immediately, Tess started thrashing with her first orgasm. Pussy juice was leaking around my fingers and onto the sheet. Her tiny hands literally tore hair from my head when she came the second time.
I pulled her to the edge of the bed and raised her ankles to my shoulders. My cock found its way to the right place and, with so much lubrication, sank to the hilt. I stood still, letting Tess wiggle get comfortable with my length. Evidently, Jack had a small dick… but that was okay, it was no longer his pussy.
Slowly, I started driving in and pulling back. Every inward thrust brought a grunt on gasp from her beautiful mouth… another place I wanted to stick my dick, but not tonight.
Her heels were digging in to my shoulders as she pulled her hips up to meet my every push, “Uh-uh-uh-uh-oh-oh-yes, yes, oh God, yes. Oh my God, Don… fuck me hard. Fill me with your cock and cum. Uh-uh-uh- ah-ah,OH-OH- OH, MY GODDDD!! I’M GONNA CUMMMMMM.. OH-SHIT-YESSSSSS!!”
My balls sent load after load of steaming sperm into Tess’ tunnel. I couldn’t remember, ever, having a stronger release nor one that lasted as long.
My old dick softened and fell from its nest. I lowered her legs and she winced in pain, “My legs aren’t used to that much work. I guess I’m getting soft in my old age.”
“That’s alright, my love. I’ll just have to get hard enough for both of us.”
I laid my sweat covered body on hers and kissed those luscious lips again, “Nobody will ever hurt you again. There’s only gonna be one man in your life, from now ‘til death do us part… and I-am-going-to-be-that-man.”
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