A Sexagenarians Fantasies Ch. 03

Crump, crump, crump. The sound of the snow underfoot is oddly comforting.

It is over 50 years since I heard the sound regularly as a child and youth in England. Since arriving in Australia, it has been a very rare sound indeed. But it always brings back the memories of freezing fingers and toes, yet laughter and gaiety as snowballs were thrown and toboggans were ridden.

It is hard to believe that only 2 days ago we were making love in the clearing of the forest, less than half a kilometre away.

But the sudden cold snap that roared in from the Antarctic overnight put paid to the Indian summer. Luckily, the owners of the cottage that we are renting had laid in enough wood for such emergencies. My arms were stretched like an orangutans as I carried the heavily laden basket from the woodshed.

The majority of the wind has died down now, and the grey, snow laden clouds have given a feeling of muted stillness to the outside. Climbing the steps to the porch, I knock the snow from my boots and open the outer of the two entrance doors, and enter the tiny lobby.

The cottage itself is as old as I am, built in the early 1940's from sandstone blocks. It had been refurbished in early 2000, and the double entrance was one of the important modifications made to maintain a good climate inside. Along with heavy insulation in the walls and ceilings, the owners had installed double glazed windows, which still had the external look of leadlight style, but the huge advantage of insulation improvements. The timber floors had been covered in a lush, neutral coloured woollen carpet, which all add up to a very pleasant, warm house, even with the wind roaring as it did this morning.

The wood fire is merrily crackling in the corner of the lounge room, lending an aura of cosiness and sensuality to the room. In front of it is a very large sheepskin rug.

It is starting to darken even more outside, as the day draws to a close. You have already pulled the curtains to a close, and the only light in the room comes from the fire, a small reading lamp, and the light from the bathroom, from where I can hear the running of the water as you fill the spa bath. I can hear you humming away as I place the wood basket next to the fire, and put a couple of logs in the centre of the glimmering coals.

I enter the bathroom, just as you turn out the main light, and I'm met with the sight of many lit candles around the room and an ice bucket, containing a wine bottle, next to the bath. At either end of the bath, sitting on the ledge, are full glasses of sparkling wine.

You turn around as I enter, and my heart skips a beat as I look into your eyes. You have a beautiful smile, and you look positively radiant, standing there with the light from the candles surrounding you in their glow. Your very fluffy bathrobe adds a soft frame to your already perfect looks.

"You, know, I am such a lucky bloke to have the good fortune of being loved by such a young and beautiful woman."

You pull a silly face, and poke out your tongue. "Yeah, right." you say, trying to dismiss my compliment. But the look only makes you more natural, in my eyes.

Turning off the tap, you turn with a flourish and announce "The bath is ready for his lordship. Would you like the serving wench to scrub your lordships back?"

You don't wait for a reply as you untie the belt around your waist, and take off your bathrobe, revealing your perfectly proportioned body. My eyes widen as they take in your form, still a huge turn on for me, still as if seeing you naked for the first time. They open even wider as you step into the bath, and I catch a glimpse of your fantastic vulva, so pink and open as your legs part. I watch in awe as you sink into the hot, steamy water, the bubbles that are in there gripping onto you body, as if devouring you. First your ankles and legs disappear from sight. The water is hot, so you sink slowly into it, the bubbles claiming the prize of your vulva, then your gorgeous round bottom, and tummy, before seeming to hold onto your breasts and draw them into their greedy grasp.

I turn my back to you as I start to undress.

"Why have you turned around?" you ask quizzically.

"After seeing your body, kitten, I am embarrassed at the wrinkles and age of my body, and I don't want to turn you off."

"Don't be so bloody silly." you reprimand me, "There is only one place on your body that has wrinkles, and by the time I have done what I want to do, there won't be any wrinkles there, either!"

Surrendering, I turn to face you. "OK, you asked for it."

Finishing the unbuttoning of my shirt, I take it off, and place it on top of your robe. I unbuckle my belt, unzip my jeans, and start to lower them. Hooking my finger around my sock, I step out of my jeans taking the sock with them. I am conscious of you looking at my body as I am undressing, and still feel unworthy of your love of my older body. After ogling you as you got into the bath, I can feel the stiffening taking place between my legs. Taking a deep breath, I slip my thumbs inside the waistband of my boxers, and lower them to the floor, taking my other sock with them.

I have nowhere to hide now!

You smile as I climb into the bath.

"See, I haven't done anything yet, and already the wrinkles are going."

You always have a way of making me feel a lot better than I am, and I laugh out loud at your comment. Reaching behind you, you take up your glass, and hold it towards me. Reaching behind me, I do the same. Clinking glasses, we toast in unison "To us!" and drink in the soft, bubbly liquid. Some bubbles go up my nose and tickle the back of my throat. My shoulders relax, as I sink properly into the bath, our legs touching and sending tingles through them.

You put your glass down, and ask me to turn around so that you can scrub my back. Although I cannot see them through the soap bubbles, I can feel your legs opening, ready to make room for me to sit between them. The previous glimpse of your vulva as you stepped into the bath works on my imagination, as my mind fills with images or your wide openness, of the colour, feel and taste of you. My erection hardens considerably.

Turning around, hiding my embarrassment with soap bubbles, I sit between your legs. You immediately lift your knees and grip my legs between them, bring on more shivers of delight. You start to soap my back with the sponge, and I can feel complete relaxation seeping through my entire body.

From this angle, I can see further feminine touches in the bathroom. If I had set it up, I would have just put a few candles out there, not particularly worried about how they were placed. But, of course, your setting is perfect. The candles are neatly arranged in groups of three, each of the three a different colour and size. At the far end of the bath, where I had originally been, you had placed an aromatherapy burner and I could see that the container was Jasmine. Very sexy.

Also from where we are sitting, I can see the fire through the open bathroom door. My mind starts to lift as all of the soft, sexy and sensual senses were treated to a smorgasbord of delights.

My mind comes back to semi normality as you rinse off my back, and place your arms around me, drawing me into your chest. The firmness of your pert breasts against my back gives me an incredible feeling of love and desire. To be between your legs and being held in such a way brings a lump to my throat, and makes my heart fill with love for you. You stroke my forehead, and nuzzle your mouth into my ear. "I love the feeling of you being naked against me." you whisper.

My arms are resting against your thighs, and I start to rub my hands up and down them, as you again use the sponge to wash my chest. It doesn't take long for me to become aware that you are only using one hand to wash me. I feel your other hand slide around my tummy, and edge down towards my fully erect penis. You take it in your hand, and start to rub it firmly. As you do, your breasts start to rub against my back; your hard nipples pressing into me, the flattening of your breasts against my back give me an enormous feeling of lust.

I raise my arm out of the water to allow you easier access to me. All of a sudden, it feels like I am in a whirlpool!

My elbow accidentally pressed the switch for the spa! Jets of water assault my unready skin. We both jump in surprise, before bursting out laughing at the suddenness of it all.

Turning off the spa for the time being, I blurt out "I think that calls for a celebratory drink.", trying to cover my embarrassment at doing something so silly. Turning to face you, we both take another sip from our glasses, the cold sharpness of the bubbles feeling nice in our mouths. The merriment is still shining in your eyes, so much so that it seems to light up the room. You look so gorgeous; I need to touch you, to caress you.

"OK," I say, "Now it's my turn. Up you get and turn around so that I can do your back."

You rise from the water like a phoenix rising from the ashes, or a goddess ascending to the heavens. Some soap bubbles remain clinging to your body, reluctant (as I would be) of letting go of such sexy skin. Some of the soap is slithering down between your breasts, and over your tummy, before descending into the divine folds between your legs. The visions that race through my mind are very pornographic. Charles wanted to be a tampon ... I want to be that soap bubble!

You turn and start to bend down so that you can sit between my legs. Your soapy, wet, shiny bottom almost makes me gasp with excitement as you lower yourself back into the water. I can't wait to get my hands on that beautiful body.

You lean forward as I pour the body lotion onto the sponge. The heady affect of the Jasmine oil, and the scented candles, is working on me, my body is feeling tinglier, sexier, with every minute that passes. I start to use the sponge on your back, loving the feel of sponge in my hand, gliding over your smooth, young skin. My erection, now back in full flight after turning on the spa had slowed it down a bit, is pressing into the crease between your bottom cheeks. I can feel you wriggle against it, letting me know that you are aware of it.

Rinsing your back, I return the favour of soaping your chest, although I know that I have got the better of the deal!

I cheat, somewhat. I don't use the sponge, but soap up my hands, and rub them on your hot, wet breasts. Loving the feeling, I don't ever want to stop. I tease your nipples, as I kiss the side of your neck. One hand cups a breast, as the other squeezes and caresses, and rubs your nipple. Moving downwards, my hand travels over your tummy, and starts to fondle your pubis, my forefinger reaching down even further and touching, caressing, teasing your clitoris. I feel you relaxing in my arms.

Unsure of what harm may be caused by entering your body in a soapy bath, I whisper into your ear "Shall we get dry before we both get wrinkled, and go and lay on the sheepskin rug in front of the fire?"

You seem a little reluctant at first, but slowly nod your head. We quickly finish off washing ourselves, and reach for the huge bath towels on the rails. They are very, very soft. White, with a gold trim around them, they are almost the size of sheets. The towel rack is a heated one, so the towels themselves are beautifully warm.

You climb out of the bath first, as I pull the plug. Following you, I rub you down with your towel, getting very turned on while looking into your pretty face, and feeling your firm breasts underneath my touch. Your arms, back and tummy are next. Going down onto my knees, I towel dry your feet, being careful not to tickle. Up over your ankles, then your slender calves, knees and thighs. Lingering perhaps longer than I should, I dry your bottom and between your legs. The softness of the towel seems to have an affect on you because you close your eyes as I gently move it between your legs, the fibres working their way between your beautiful folds and creases.

Reaching down to my shoulders, you let me know that you want to dry me. Like I did, you leave my genitals until last, the softness of the towel creating little tingles like small static shocks. You gently dry my testicles, while kissing me, your tongue inside my mouth, exploring.

We stay kissing for some time, until my desire to be inside you gets so great that I can wait no longer.

Placing the towels back in the rack, I fill the glasses, and head out to the lounge room, closing the door behind me. You have placed a clean towel on the sheepskin rug, and are laying on it, facing the fire. The sight of your curvaceous, feminine body is resplendent. The room is now quite dark, the wood nymphs from the burning logs are leaving shadows that seem to be leaping and cavorting on your nakedness, like some ancient fertility rite. The red's and yellows from the fire, the alabaster paleness of your body, and the pure white of the sheepskin and the towel come together like a Joseph Wright of Derby's industrial revolution painting. Your body stands out like a monument to virtuosity. You look so virginal and angelic, but looks can be deceiving.

I place the glasses on the hearth, and lay behind you; my erection nestled again between your bottom cheeks, my arms around you, caressing and fondling your breasts. We gaze into the fire, and watch the scenes playing out within it. The radio is playing in the background, and our favourite song starts to play. Turning towards me, you whisper "I love you." and we kiss, softly at first but then more urgently as our desires start to take over within both of us. We hold each other in a way that shows that we never want to let go, that we want to become as one.

And we will.