Stranger on the Shore

Susan made her apologies, and left. She didn't remember getting into her car. One minute she sat in Greg's kitchen, the next, in her X5 racing home. She felt so ashamed, she didn't want to glance into her rear view mirror in case she might catch a glimpse of her own lecherous face.

She'd disliked Janice because the woman had managed to keep something that Susan had lost so long ago. Her happiness, and her self-assuredness. No, she'd never been self-assured. Susan had known John since childhood. She'd been a marked woman since the age of six. She had always known that she would marry him. They had just finished high school when he had proposed. Neither one of them had ever made to college. By that time, she'd already had two children. John and the boys had been her world. With Trent's loss, her spirit had been fractured. John's abandonment had totally shattered it. The best parts of her had been destroyed. Her abused soul, the bitter dregs left in the empty cup of her worn out body.

Nothing more.

"Call Regina," she said into the air. She immediately heard a number being dialed. Reggie's line rang seven times. Eight times. Nine. Susan reached for the hands-free, about to terminate the connection, when Reggie picked up.

"Hey, Suze. What's going down?"

"How did you know it was me?"

"Call display. What decade do you live in? I wouldn't have picked up for anyone else."

"Oh." Susan felt embarrassed. "Nothing much. Just wanted to see how you were."

"That's something. You haven't called me in over half a year."

"That can't be," Susan began. "I just talked to you in, well ..."

"In May. It's mid-November now."

"I guess. Sorry about that."

"Oh, I'm not complaining!" Regina giggled. "When I'm screwing someone regularly, I tend to brush aside all my friends too. I'm glad it's working out so well for you."

"I haven't done anything like that," Susan confessed.

"Well, why the fuck not? Men come with expiry dates, you know. You best eat him up before he spoils."

"Expiry dates?"

"Yeah. Meat spoils when it's thawed out, but kept refrigerated too long."

"What if you're unsure about whether you want to eat it?"

"Then why did you pick it up in the first place? Better to leave it in the freezer. You must have wanted it at the time."

"Perhaps veal isn't to my taste."

"Now we've come to the point. Young beef, is that it? Stop that!" A loud smack sounded over the phone. Someone gasped. Reggie muttered something low, and was answered in-kind.

"Reggie, is this a bad time?"

"No worse than any other time. Talk to me. Why should Andrew's age bother you?"

"He's so young!"

"How young? Twenty? Twenty-five?"

"Thirty-five."

"You're fucking with me. What's the problem?"

"I just told you."

"Suze. Babe. Listen to me. The guy's practically middle age. He's certainly old enough to get laid. And you're young enough to still enjoy it. So why the angst? Take what he wants to give you before he takes it somewhere else."

"But what about --"

"The courts say he's legal, Suze. Why shouldn't you? If he was 16, then I'd worry. Maybe."

"But how can I let him know how I feel?"

"He's a man, isn't he? Leave the door open even just a crack, and he'll barge in all by himself. Trust me."

Reggie giggled, her laugh low and sultry. Not at all the shrill girlish giggle she usually used. "If you've nothing left to say, I'm kinda busy. If you want to get your mind off of your young man, why not come around? I have someone here who is willing to care of you real nice."

"Thanks, but I can't even handle the man I have. I wouldn't know what to do with a second."

"Who was offering you a man? Alissa'd be offended. Ciao babe." The line went dead.

Reggie. Susan may not approve of her promiscuity, but she certainly did of her clearheadedness. Susan wasn't 80 years old. She still had at least 20 or 30 years left of life. She wasn't ready to crawl into a hole and die. Not just yet. Dancing with Andrew made her feel alive. Wanton and wanted, all at once. She wouldn't give that up without a fight. So what if he had a few less years on him?

Susan caught herself whistling a merry tune as she drove home. She shook her had ruefully. She'd better stop hanging out with Reggie. The girl's lack of morals was starting to rub off on her.

Susan flipped over onto her stomach and reached over to the side table to retrieve her black bag of toys. She opened it up and glanced over its contents. She selected two of them, a three pronged anal probe and a slender latex dildo, about 20 centimeters long. She sucked at the phallus, working it in and out of her mouth with the surety a woman who has done so hundreds of times in the past. She always marveled at how real it felt! The thing even had veins. If it had the same musky odour of a man and tasted faintly of sweat, she could have been fooled by it. As she worked the dildo into her throat, she slid the anal buster into her cunny. She moved it around, getting it nice and moist. On a lark, she poured a bit of port over it. She inserted the anal probe into her waiting rectum. The alcohol initially burned, but the mild sting spread throughout her rectum, suffusing her ass with a delightful warmth. She decided to leave it there. Her ass muscles tensed around it. The anal buster wiggled back and forth, seemingly by itself.

She popped the dildo out of her throat, and took another sip from her port. Sweet. Warm. Thick. She returned the dildo to her mouth, shoving it all the way down her throat. She swallowed around it, massaging it with her muscles. Her hands, thus freed, tugged at her nipples. She wasn't John. She'd give equal treatment to all the parts of her body that desired attention. Her cunny practically itched. She needed something in there straight away. She pulled the slender dildo from her throat and inserted it into her waiting snatch. Time to do the deed, she thought with a giggle. These days, she could get screwed without apprehension. The era of John-style loving had passed.

She moved the dildo with excruciating slowness. The ever-hard meat crept inside of her, sending delightful sensations all the way through her flesh tunnel. She playfully tugged at the triangular tuft of white-frosted, blonde hair that capped her filled cleft. This is what she enjoyed. She had the time to feel everything. She liked to luxuriate in the feel of a cock as it slid slowly through her. She fancied she could count the veins as they passed by the clinching muscles of her vagina. She could distinctly feel the plumlike head as it speared into her, and her tunnel stretched to accommodate it. She liked to feel the peristaltic waves of her muscles as they moulded around something that moved in her. Feeling. That's what intercourse meant to her. Heightened sensation, without unnecessary pain.

Her ass acclimated to the probe quite nicely. Time for the next step. She toggled the power button on the anal probe. The three rods twisted within her. It felt like a hand flexing its fingers inside of her bowels. The sensations drove her wild. She didn't neglect her cunny. It still fed upon the slim dildo, which slowly moved in and out of her. She still fancied slim dildos because of Andrew. Well endowed, yet slender. She liked the feeling of clenching down on a cock within her, not the feeling of being split apart like a log by a wedge. Andrew. Of all her lovers, he ranked as one of the best. Partly due to his technique, but mostly because he had sampled her recycled virginity first, back in the year 8 A.J. when she'd felt the loneliest. She would always love him for it. He had awakened the dormant sensuality within her.

Susan arrived at Desenfrenada Lujuria an hour early, and waited. She had been out shopping yesterday. She now wore her new possessions, a fantastic set of lavender lingerie with matching silk stockings and suspender belt, a crimson blazer, and a black skirt that went to her ankles. It featured delightful slits almost to the waist on both sides of the hip. It set off her spaghetti-strapped, ten centimeter stiletto sandals to perfection. She had almost orgasmed when putting on the outfit. She'd never owned lingerie before. She used to feel that underwear should be functional, not sexy. Right! How little she'd known.

Andrew's car, a late model Acura Legend, pulled up. He quickly parked and locked his vehicle. He wore a confused expression upon his face as he approached her car. Once over there, he tapped the driver's side window. Susan lowered the glass.

"You early, or what?" he asked. "What's up?"

Susan looked him straight in the face and smiled, flashing him a feral, open mouthed grin. "What's up, you say? Give me some time, and I'll show you. Help me out, would you?" Andrew stepped back and opened her door. He assisted her out of the car, but did not allow his hands to linger, though his eyes took into her ebony clad feet and her long legs revealed by the waist-high slits into her midnight skirt. He played the part of the perfect gentleman. Well, that had better change soon, Susan thought.

The went inside and began to dance. Oh, how they danced! She'd been taking these courses for over eight months. Not to mention heading out to Babaloo's Latin Nightclub every evening. Her dancing prowess had surpassed talented amateur status, and now bordered on professional level. Simultaneously, she could dance with wild abandon yet still utilize technique and skill to great effect. She knew both what looked good to others, and what felt good to herself. She was neither a slave to convention nor ignorant of the rules. Learning how to dance properly freed her to dance in any way she chose, confident that she looked as appealing as she felt inside.

Today was different. Special. More than the dancing, more than the fantastic Latin music or the lighting, the clothes made her feel wanton. She'd never felt this sexual in her life. That feeling of arousal shone through every pore. She assumed the posture of an animal in heat, a predator stalking her prey. It had taken her eight months, but she would finally take Reggie's advice. She had packed for bear. She had entered the woods. She had located her prey. Time to reduce him to a pulsing mass of sticky meat.

Susan grabbed Andrew around the waist and pulled him tightly to her. She ground her breasts against his chest. The bulge at his groin grew perceptibly. "You asked me what was up, earlier," she said as she pushed him away. She spun on her heels, her black skirt whirling upwards, displaying her long, purple-sheathed legs and her fantastic, foot revealing strappy sandals.

Andrew seemed to like the game. He came after her, never breaking step. As soon as he would close with her, she would evade his grasp. Always with style and finesse, and always at the very last moment. She could sense his growing frustration, and his mounting desire for her. Even so, he did not dare make an untoward move upon her. Every step he took was a boring, predictable dance step. She'd thought him so talented in the beginning. It almost hurt her to realize that he was too formal to ever be a world class dancer. He would always obey convention, and follow the rules of the dance. But Susan had long discovered that she could transcend them. She spun back towards him and dropped to her knees, deftly grasping the belt at his waist. She undid the buckle. Andrew looked down at her, confused, but obviously enjoying the attention. Susan decided that she did not love Andrew, but desired him like no man before him. She would live for the moment, not dwell on the future or the past. Sometimes, a screw was just that. No strings required, or desired.

Susan undid the fly to his pants and pulled his penis out. He wore no underwear. She smiled. She figured that he wouldn't be wearing any. About 20 centimeters of rock-hard cock pulsed in her palms. A tad narrow, but she preferred them that way. Its clean cut head felt marvelously smooth. He had little pubic hair, a marked difference from her bearlike ex. She opened her mouth and took all of him inside her in one fell swoop. Andrew put his hands on the side of her head, above her ears. His fingers twined tightly in her hair. She slapped his hands away. His prick made a popping sound as it exited her mouth.

"Never try to force me that way," she said. "If we do it my way, we'll both enjoy ourselves. Try that on me again and I walk." Andrew moved his hands to his sides. He didn't seem to mind the rebuke. Satisfied, Susan went back to work on him.

Again, she deep-throated him. The clenching sensations that her throat made on his cock caused Andrew to groan as if in pain. His balls brushed against her lower lip. Her tongue slithered out, tickling his nut-sac, and causing him to shiver violently. She smiled inwardly as she tightened her grip around his narrow waist. She pushed him out of her mouth with excruciating slowness until only the head of his penis remained held tightly between her lips. She mauled the head of the captured penis, using her teeth, tongue and lips to provide him with the ultimate pleasure. Over 25 years of practice sucking the penis of a most demanding taskmaster came into play. She knew what to do to make a prick happy. When Andrew gasped, sounding as if he would faint, she sucked hard on his penis, trying to pull the liquid pearl right out of his balls. Andrew groaned in delight.

Susan sawed the rod in and out of her mouth, moving to midshaft, then quickly backing up. Her hands massaged the base of his cock and his balls. She created a mesmerizing rhythm, one totally in sync with the music that permeated the air. The rhythm of her soul. She grabbed the base his prick tightly in her fist and violently jacked him off. He hadn't expected that move, and remained unprepared when she fucked her face on his cock. His groaning sounded loud in her ears. His fingers dug into the sides of his thighs. She knew he desperately wanted to grab her head again, but would stop himself from doing so. She enjoyed watching him restrain himself. It pleased her to think that he actually tried to listen to what she'd told him. He respected her enough to make the attempt.

His face twisted in a grimace as she bore down upon him with increased ferocity. His lean prick appeared and disappeared rapidly into the cavern of her mouth. Lewd slurping sounds escaped from her lips, as did a thick rivulet of drool which ran down the corner of her mouth, and collected at her chin. The spittle dripped continuously onto the hardwood floor. She wanted to see what he looked like. She raised her eyes to his, and captured his gaze. Once their eyes connected, she swallowed him. His responses to her actions pleased her. His bright, content eyes mirrored the joy he felt. They connected him to her. He immediately tuned in with her and the things she did for him as he could to the Latin music that surrounded them both. In their own way, they danced. She continued to fellate him for quite some time. She became lost in the taste, smell, and feel of him. Andrew didn't seem bored with the prolonged suck session.

There had been something that Susan had always wanted to do to a man, but had been afraid to even bring it up with her ex-husband. She slithered a hand around Andrew's waist and kneaded the cheeks of his ass. As she impaled herself on his cock once again, she jammed her index finger into his asshole. His hips bucked forward powerfully, slapping her forehead into his washboard stomach. She reamed his ass in counterpoint to him fucking her face. She gave him a stroke with her hand for every stroke she took with her mouth. She waited for a complaint that never came. Only moaning. Andrew seemed to find it a fair exchange.

Andrew grabbed her head by the ears and slammed his cock deep into her throat. She gurgled in protest as he increased the pressure on her head. She withdrew the hand from his ass and clutched at his forearms. She tried to dig her fingernails into him, but she'd always been in the habit of keeping her nails short. He ignored her feeble attempts to stop him. He ferociously pumped in out of her satin mouth like a man who lived for nothing else but to inject his seed into her waiting orifice. His single-mindedness surprised her, but also pleased her. He used her mouth and throat like a man who'd expire in the next ten seconds, and had to blow his wad one last time before death took him. Like Reggie said, 'Show a man the door, and he'll barge right in.' It seemed that Andrew intended to smash her doors in with his battering ram.

Her grunts of shock and surprise quickly became moans of lust. Her hands gently rubbed his forearms as he plowed into her receptive mouth. His entire body stiffened as his crotch slammed forward into her face one last time. She felt the cock in her throat expanding and contracting rapidly. The heat that issued forth from him slipped down her throat. His fingers flexed on the sides of her head. He clutched her head to him tightly, unmoving as his orgasm subsided. A few more moments passed without anyone stirring. Then, with gentle strokes, he ran his fingers through her long, silky hair.

Susan extricated herself from his cock, and planted a gentle kiss upon its swollen purple head. She got up, smiling. "Did you like?"

"Fucking incredible. I've never felt anything that intense before."

"Actually, that wasn't fucking at all. They call that head, silly boy. Fucking comes later." Susan stood up and straightened her clothing. She had expected to see a flower print apron above her slinky black skirt. She shook her head, clearing the awful thought from her brain. "I haven't even taken my clothes off yet. Can you imagine what happens when I do?"

Susan danced for her appreciative audience of one. She peeled out of her clothes in a sensuous striptease. Off came the crimson jacket. She wore no blouse underneath it. Her heaving breasts pressed against a tight quarter-cut bra. Her nipples played peekaboo over the edges of the lacy cups. She undid the narrow black belt that held up her skirt, and allowed it to glide silently to the parquet flooring.

She stood clad only in her lingerie, displaying herself to this man for the first time. Her nether-lips glistened through the cut in her crotchless panties. The open petals of her flower burned. She felt so wet between her legs, she still couldn't believe that love honey wasn't really running down her inner thighs and soaking the tops of her stockings. She had produced enough moisture to be the source of the Mississippi. The sweet, earthy scent of a woman in heat filled the air.

"What do you think," she asked him. She ran her hands over her hips and over the large, pale cheeks of her ass. How she hated her fat ass! If anything on her body could be considered a trouble spot, that was it. Every gram of fat in her body always congregated there. As she aged, her arse had dimpled. She could feel every pockmark and blemish on her skin as she stood under the spotlight of his scrutiny. Suddenly, she didn't feel so sure of herself. This body had serious klicks on it. 58 years hung on her bones. What would Andrew think? Would he be comparing her to all the young 20 and 30-year-old women who came into his dance studio? All the nubile women he had made love to in the past? How would she rate?

"Beautiful," Andrew said.

Susan played with her breasts while her smile beckoned to Andrew. "So, you like what you see?" She asked him in a husky voice. She could barely contain her relief. "I pass inspection?"

In response, Andrew grabbed her and kissed her mouth, gently at first, with light, closed-mouthed pecks that increased in roughness and wetness as his need grew within him. His long tongue slithered between her lips and into her hot mouth, awakening her tongue that slept within. Their bodies mated as tightly as their tongues did. He kept kissing her as he leaned forward and effortlessly picked her up.