“I was glad to help in any way I could.”
She looked a little nervous and rubbed her hands over her jeans, along her thighs. “And … that other thing. We should just be able to put that all behind us without another word. Shouldn’t we?”
It wasn’t like she was ordering me to, or even asking me to. It was more like she didn’t know what she should be asking … or expecting. I saw, or more exactly, I felt an opening here. An opportunity.
“We could,” I said. “But, I don’t think that’s the right thing to do … yet.”
“Then, you want to talk about it, clear it up?”
I walked up to her and said, “The only thing I want to clear up is some unfinished business.”
“What do you mean?”
Now was the moment of truth, the make-it-or-break-it moment when I would know where this was heading.
“I said I wanted to suck on your beautiful tits, and I thought you thought that would be a good idea.” I reached up and unbuttoned the top button of her blouse.
“Mike … I … we …” Then she walked to the back door. I half expected her to go into the parking lot and get in the van. What she did was lock it. I had already seen her lock the front door.
“Don’t need any surprise visitors,” she said. Then she leaned forward and kissed me on the mouth. “I’ve been wanting to do that for two days,” she said.
“I kissed her back and teased at her lips with my tongue. She opened her mouth, and I found her own lively tongue.
My hands, in the meantime, were busy with the rest of her buttons. When the last one was unfastened, I pulled the bottom of her blouse free of her jeans. Then I guided it over her shoulders and tossed it on the long couch she had sitting against the wall.
“Oh my God,” she said.
She had a white lace bra on. There was plenty of cleavage, and two round dark spots showed through.
I kissed her again and my arms went around her and found the clasps on her back. I unhooked the first. “One,” I said. Then the next. “Two,” I said.
“I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it,” she managed to say.
“And three!” And I parted the bra and relocated my fingers to the straps on her shoulders. I pulled them down her arms and she let me continue to slide her bra completely off.
Her breasts were gorgeous. Magnificent. Even better than you would have imagined from their outline and silhouette when clothed. They were big and symmetrical and still firm. The only sign of age might have been a slight relaxing, which made them even more attractive, in my opinion.
Her areolae (you didn’t think I knew Latin, did you!) were dark tan and the diameter of a poker chip. Her nipples were a couple of shades lighter. they were big (the size and shape of raspberries) and they were so completely hard that their surface was puckered and contracted.
I didn’t even touch them—not with my hands. I immediately dipped my head down and took her right nipple into my mouth.
“Aaaaaaaaahhhh!” she gasped.
If I hadn’t been holding her, she would have collapsed. I held her up and the strength returned to her legs. She steadied herself, but I disengaged and guided her to sit on the couch.