Not that it is any guarantee of good sex, but I do okay. And even if my brief encounters don't always result in mind-blowing orgasms, they provide wank-fodder for when I'm back in my own bed.
This particular day I was sitting alone at a table with the last dregs of my spritzer, the only drink that I intended to pay for myself. It was nine-thirty, was I losing my appeal? It was an unusually quiet evening, even the ever-present bar girls, the professionals, had struggled. But they had all eventually scored.
They were very expensive, I was free. Well, I came at the cost of a drink or two, but for the pro's, that was just a down payment. Is firm young flesh worth paying for? Possibly. I have to admit, I like the vigour and fast recovery rate of a young man, why shouldn't a man fancy younger women?
I finished my drink, my own lonely bed beckoned. The barman Mark, who was well aware of my game, appeared at my elbow.
"The gentleman over there would like to buy you a drink."
I followed his nod. The 'gentleman' must have been in his sixties. Impeccably dressed, with completely grey hair. He raised his glass to me. Why not? Snow on the roof and all that. He would be my oldest yet. But why not?
"What's he drinking?
I asked Mark.
"Armagnac."
"Is it any good?"
"I've no idea, but it's expensive."
"I'll have one of those."
Mark returned to the bar. I stood, smoothed my dress and walked over to my benefactor's table, using my best Marilyn Monroe wiggle. He stood as I aproached and offered his hand for me to shake.
"Good evening," he said. "I'm Edward."
I took his hand and replied;
"Grace."
"Lovely name," he said. "And so fitting."
Mark arrived with my drink. I sniffed it and took a sip. Powerfull stuff, it wouldnt take many of these to remove any girl's knickers.
We both knew what we were there for, the conversation was small talk. Yes, he was staying here. So far on business, but business was done, now he was seeking pleasure. We finished our drinks and took the lift to his room. He opened the door for me to enter, letting the door close behind. He indicated the bathroom. This man could read my mind. I had suffered broken zips and torn seams in the past and now preferred to remove my own dress.
I removed my dress and my bra. By coincince, I had worn French knickers today, Edward would have the experience to appreciate them. I left them on. I checked the mirror. Fresh lipstick, tidy hair, good tits, seamed black stockings supported by whiplash thin suspenders that disapeared invitingly up the wide legs of the sexy lace knickers. Yes, I would certainly fuck me. I made my entrance.
Edward was in bed. Sitting up but covered from the waist down by the duvet. I did a twirl then stood beside the bed and slowly lowered the knickers.
"Exquisite."
He said softly.
I placed my thumbs in the waistband of the suspender belt and said;
"On or off?"
"On I think."
He replied. I kicked off my shoes and slipped into the huge bed alongside him. He leaned over and kissed me gently, cupping a tit. I reached down for his cock. What my hand encountered shocked me. Surely the thing in my hand was not his cock? It wasn't even hard. It was firm, but not erect.
"Edward," I said. "Is this all you?"
"It is," he replied.
"Whyever did you smuggle it to bed? It's magnificent."
"If I reveal myself too soon, it tends to frighen a woman off."
"I'm not surprised. Let me see it."
He revealed himself. It was immense. And still growing.
"If you think that it's too much for you," he said. "I will understand."
It would certainly be the biggest cock that I had had. If I could accomodate it. I had to try. I said as much, adding;
"I can't promise anything though, but I won't leave until one way or other you are satisfied."
My biggest dildo is just seven inches long. I have tried bigger ones and magaged to cram them it, but it's not a comfortable experience. Edwards appendage was certainly well in excess of seven inches, perhaps even as much as ten, but it was also very thick. I played with it, exploring it. It did not get really hard, like rigid, but I could not completely encircle it with my fingers and with a two hand grip, the uncircumsised head still showed.
I sucked it as well as I could, I could get the glans in my mouth and part of the shaft, deep throat was not an option.
"May I lick your cunt?"
He asked politely. Silly question.
"Queen me," he said." Let me get to you."
I swung my leg over and positioned myself, holding on to the headboard. He held my hips, raised his head and kissed my cunt, opening his mouth so that he was sucking me. His tongue probed inside, than found my clit. He sucked and licked at the same time. His hands came up to cup my tits then he stroked my back, from neck to arse, cupping my buttocks, pressing me into his face.
His hands then wandered, gently exploring. His fingers brushed my arsehole, he pressed against it causing my jerk and his finger disapeared. Pity, my reaction was reflex, I like anal play with fingers or tongue, giving or receiving. Nor am I averse to being fucked in this arse, but with a monster like Edward's, this was not an option.
One hand left me. I have found that in this position, with a man using both hands and his mouth to pleasure me, his cock can feel neglected. It's not unusual for a man to give it a bit of a wank, keep it interested. Edward was simply wanking himself. But then the other hand disappeared. A double-hander? It was certainly big enough. But both hands, were soon back on my arse. Just in time, my climax was very close.
He held me firmly in place as I writhed on top of him. Only when my squirming stopped did he release me. I moved down his body, ready now to experience extreme penetration. I raised myself over his hips, I would need to be in full control. I was surprised to find a condom stretched tightly over his cock. So that's what he was doing with his hands. Not wanking, preparing for the next stage.
He must have come equipped, the condom that I had tucked into my stocking top would have been hopelessly inadequate. Someone was catering for the larger man. XXXL anybody? From under his pillow, he produced a tube of lubricant and handed it to me, I lathered it on him and squirted some into myself, better safe than sorry.
With some trepidation, I located his tip at my entrance. I wanted this, as much out of curiosity as lust. He still wasn't hard, but hard enough. Slowly, I lowered mysef onto it, guiding it and supporting it with my fingers. What an amazing feeling, utterly stretched. It was all in!
I started to ride it, sitting upright. His hands were on my thighs, I was in control. His hands transfered to my tits. My body had adjusted to this extreme intrusion, I was enjoying it. I leaned forward, relinquishing control. He began thrusting, at first slowly and deliberately, giving me the entire length from tip to balls. Gradually, he built up speed. He thrust faster, and if it was possible, deeper.
He was speeding towards his climax and taking me witn him. His cock was filling me so much that it rasped against my clit on both the in and the out strokes. One of his hands was on my back, steadying me. The other renewed it's exploration of my arse, his fingers in my crack. There was a lot of lubricant about, displaced from my cunt by his cock. This time when a finger found my hole, it slipped easily in. Each time his cock rammed into one hole, his finger pushed a bit further into the other.
I reached a screaming, writhing orgasm, he unloaded his right into the middle of it.
I lay on top of him, spent, reamed out, fucked. His cock softened and slipped out. I rolled off to lie at his side, feeling my heartbeat return to normal and my cunt shrink back to human. I turned on my side and reached for his now limp cock. He had removed the condom, his cock was warm and damp. I kissed him and said thank you.
"It is I who should thank you," he said. "I could not have wished for a better birthday present."
"It's your birthday?"
"Not quite. At the stroke of midnight I will become, not a pumpkin, but a septegenarian."
Septegenarian. Seventy. He was seventy! I had broken a few records tonight, not only had I been comprehensively fucked by the biggest cock I had ever seen, that cock had been around for seventy years. It must have been a shock for the midwife!
The next day at work, I did some calculations. If it really was ten inches long and over two inches thick, it would have a volume of 24 cubic inches, or in pre-brexit terms, almost four hundred milliliters. More than double that of Mr UK Average.
No wonder I felt tender.
