An Old Man's Christmas Wish

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Layla spends the holiday with her older neighbor.
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There are many moments in life that one can see as stunning; I am witnessing such a moment. My home is in the mountains of Pennsylvania, when the snow falls across the landscape, especially around the holidays it reminds me that God,in his infinite wisdom, allows us the time to reflect and remember the beauty in our lives.

It has been some time since I've written of my deliciously decadent liaisons. As you know, I am a lover of older men. Perhaps I would be remiss if I didn't admit that I am in fact attracted solely to older men. Most of you know that my first lover was a man of seventy eight, and he, shall we say, spoiled me for the rest of my life. My teacher, my dirty old man, taught me well.

As I revealed to you, I live in the mountains of Pennsylvania, a very rural area with magical, beautiful scenic views of rolling hills, laden and dressed in pines by the millions. The countryside is covered with a new blanket of freshly fallen snow; the local weather man has predicted that it will continue throughout the day and well into the evening.

Isn't it a secret wish, of all of us that we are always gifted a White Christmas? Looking out though the window in my great room I see that most of my neighbors have already left for their family celebrations. The few remaining in town have pillows of smoke dancing above their chimneys telling me that they are warm and comfortable.

Across the road from my home I have the most wonderful neighbor, sweet man, Ian Wilson. We've been neighbors for several years and have enjoyed a few parties and social events together. Ian's home is an old turn of the century stone house that sits on a beautiful property. The fireplace in the great room extends from floor to ceiling and wall to wall. It was quite obvious that he had a fire burning as the billows of smoke rose above the rooftop into the air. My older friend is a quiet man that never married; his business was the true love in his life. This past spring he celebrated his eightieth birthday. Although we have never dated so to speak we have enjoyed a quiet evening together with a special glass of wine now and then.

I had decided to stay home this year and enjoy a quiet holiday, my family instead would be gathering during the week between Christmas and the New Year to celebrate the holidays. Children in college, trips to the in-laws and the normal holiday rush changes the family dynamic and plans have to be altered. I was suddenly thinking that it would be nice to spend the afternoon with Ian, if he wasn't busy, so I decided to give him a call.

"Hello, Happy Holiday's."

"Happy Holiday's Ian, are you enjoying the snow?"

"Well, what a lovely surprise, how are you Layla?"

"I'm just wonderful. I was sitting here looking at the snow falling, saw your chimney smoking and thought you might like some company. I baked some luscious holiday sweets this morning and I'd like to bring some over to you."

"That's so thoughtful of you Layla, why don't you stay and have lunch with me, I have a pot of soup on the stove and fresh bread baking, I'll put together a salad and open a bottle of wine and we can spend the afternoon by the fire, how does that sound?"

There was an enthusiasm in his voice and it clandestinely aroused me. The idea of spending the day with him appealed to me on many levels. Ian is quite a charming man and there has always been an underlying sexual magnetism. I am, as I've often told you, a full figured woman. I take pleasure in the gaze of men. It is always with the greatest of care and careful thought that I dress in such a style as to enhance my assets. A gentleman once told me I strategically placed a necklace that had a drop on it to bring attention to the fullness of my breasts and lovely cleavage, perhaps I did. My style is softly elegant with a touch of sophistication. I choose fabric that flows over my body and accentuates my curves. When I was a very young girl I came to understand and so accepted how much men love full ample breasts, rounded hips and supple thighs. On more than one occasion I could feel Ian as he let his eyes slowly roam over my body. It was widely known that Mr. Wilson enjoyed the woman that looked and felt like a real woman. Perhaps there were a few longer, tighter and closer hugs now and then.

"Well I couldn't be happier, sounds wonderful. I'll get myself changed and be over shortly."

"I can hardly wait, see soon Layla."

I put together the basket of goodies and sweets for Ian and began thinking of what I would wear. I had as always showered in the morning and my hair was soft and silky, it naturally fell around my shoulders and down my back. I am blessed with deep auburn hair and dark green eyes, very faire skin. A few drops of perfume, light and almost spicy, in all the right places, and it was time to dress. I chose a pretty, deep red, lace and satin, bra and panties, very much in the spirit of Christmas. The soft underwire lifted my breasts and created a sensual cleavage. The cups were trimmed in a fine soft lace that barely covered my nipples. Since we would be sitting by the fire I wanted to be comfy so I put on a pair of soft, velour, lounging bottoms with a long sleeved top. The neckline was wide and loose, falling slightly off one shoulder exposing the satin strap of my bra. The deep green, like emeralds, the shimmer, as I moved, was eye catching. The fullness of my breasts was unmistakably evident. The fluid fabric gently fell over the curves of my hips and waist. I could feel a tingling beginning down in the pit of my stomach, an anticipation you might say of what the possibilities of the afternoon could be. I smiled; I was aroused; the softness of the fabric wouldn't hide the fact that my nipples were rigid and stiff. I reached for a scarf, very pretty, golden threads, and placed it around my neck and over my breasts. Perhaps it would conceal my secret. I put a pair of soft velvet slippers on my feet that would fit into my boots. My lashes are full and long naturally so I wear very little mascara. My skin is a blessing, soft and clear with a touch of pink in my cheeks, so all I had to add was a sheer pomegranate gloss to my lips and I was on my way.

I put on my coat, slipped into my boots and gloves, pulled the hood up over my head, grabbed my basket and out the door I went.

The walk across the road to Ian's was relatively short and although it had been snowing for some time there wasn't more than a few inches on the ground. It was a fine snow, falling straight down, the kind that tells you it will snow for hours. As I approached Ian's entry he was already there with the door open.

"Let's get you inside where it's warm."

Ian had me in the house and out of the snow in mere seconds. He reached around me and took hold of my coat; I believe there may have been a gentle lingering touch as his hands moved over my breasts.

"Layla, I'm so happy you called, this is a wonderful surprise, let me give you a proper welcome."

Ian wrapped me in his arms and pulled me close to him, I felt the warmth of his breath before his lips kissed my cheek. I leaned into his body and I felt him trembling.

"I can't tell you how pleased and happy I am that you called. I was planning on reading a book or something much less exciting this afternoon and now I have the whole day to spend with you, lovely Layla."

The delight was obvious in Ian's eyes. These eyes that were soft and quiet but could become daggers when he wanted to make a point. I'd say he was just about six feet tall and somewhat on the stocky side. The flannel shirt and corduroy slacks, both worn and comfortable, told you immediately that he was secure and comfortable in whom he is. Most of his life was spent in Banking and Finance, wearing suits and being in charge. To my knowledge he didn't have any long term relationships, he often said his business was a demanding mistress that no wife would understand or forgive.

"Layla, come in and sit by the fire, I'll bring us some wine and a snack while the soup finishes."

I walked into the great room and admired the fireplace. The fire was roaring and the flames, gold, red, so many colors, danced across the logs. The room had a subtle glow from a small dimly lit lamp on the table behind the very plush sofa. This was a very old house, you could almost sense the strength in it, standing proud, and strong for so many years.

"Here we are, please Layla sit, get comfortable, the fire should have you warming up in no time."

"Ian, I love this old house, it has so much character, ohhh the stories we would hear if these walls could talk."

Ian handed me a mug of spiced mulled wine and had set down a tray of cheeses with dried fruits and nuts to enjoy. In the corner he had a Christmas tree simply decorated and lit with tiny white lights that looked like stars. The scent from the tree, the fire and the spices in the wine definitely smelled like the holidays.

"If these walls said anything at all they would be telling you how much I am going to enjoy this afternoon. So, I must admit, I was surprised when you called, pleasantly surprised I might add, I would have thought you would have been with your family for the holidays?"

"My family is spread out all over the Northeast now. Barbra and Keith went to the youngest daughter's yesterday and then they all go to the oldest daughter tomorrow evening. The children now have children of their own and they want Grandma and Grandpa to be there when the little one's get up Christmas morning. I truly adore my family and I would have gone but I decided that with the coming snow I'd stay home this year and see everyone at the end of the week for the New Year. As luck would have it I saw your chimney smoking and thought it would be nice to spend the day with you."

There was a soft smile on his face as I was speaking, telling me that he was indeed pleased. Yes, I made a wise decision in choosing to stay at home and calling this delightful gentleman.

"You should always wear green Layla; it compliments your eyes and hair in the most beautiful way. I couldn't be happier; maybe old Santa Claus decided I deserved a special gift this year."

The tingling in my stomach told me that we both may be receiving a special gift. The fire, the wine, the man, I was becoming more than aroused.

"Come Layla, the soup is ready and suddenly I'm famished."

When I put my hand in his as he helped me to my feet, I gently squeezed his fingers, kissed his cheek and brushed against his body as we walked to the kitchen. I was slightly ahead of Ian and I must admit I did wiggle my assets just a touch.

The lunch was scrumptious. There is nothing, well almost nothing, as satisfying as a hot bowl of soup with crusty bread on a cold winter afternoon. Our conversation was lighthearted and entertaining. We gossiped about the neighborhood, we spoke of the comings and goings of wives and husbands. The banter had its usual sexual innuendo and sly smiles that brought a soft blush now and then. it wouldn't have been complete had we not solved the world's problems and disagreed on all things political.

"Layla, Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Ummm, now you have my attention, my secrets are not that interesting Ian, ask me anything."

"We've known each other for several years and now that you live here in Pennsylvania year round I've often wondered why I haven't seen any gentleman in your life. You are quite remarkable, more than attractive, intelligent, a wonderful sense of humor and have I said beautiful to look at?"

I smiled and took a moment to think about my answer.

"Thank you for the lovely compliments. I suppose it's the old cliché, I haven't found that special person. I will tell you a secret. I have always been attracted too much older men. My first experience as a young woman was with a man who was much, much older than I. You might say that he spoiled me. The sad thing is that older men don't believe a younger woman could be seriously interested in them."

I could see the surprise in his eyes and then that surprised look changed.

"Would you be surprised to know that you have been the topic of conversation among us old codgers now and then? I assure you in a most respectful way, we would all give our right arm to have a time with you."

"Are you applying for the position Mr. Wilson?"

This was the moment of truth. There was a sudden silence and in a split second a decision had been made.

"Layla, why don't you go in and put some music on, I know how much you love having the music capture the mood. I'll clear this away and join you in a little bit."

I smiled at him, turned and slowly left the kitchen, sensing his eyes following my every movement. I had laid down the challenge. The change in Ian's voice, the sudden and deep pensive look on his face was all the answer that I needed. The fire was burning brightly warming the entire house. As I walked into the room I noticed the deep shades of greens and burgundies, they gave the room a sensual and sultry feeling. Music is the key to setting a particular mood. I chose something melodic and slow, the rhythm was sexy and erotic. The ambience was inviting me to lose myself in it.

I wrapped my arms around myself and began moving with the beat of the music. Standing in place, my hips swaying, I felt his hands circle my waist before I heard him speak. He pulled me close to his body and I placed my hands over his, accepting him.

"Layla, you are quite the little minx aren't you? To say you excite me wouldn't be doing you justice. I have spent many an hour in fantasy wondering what you would feel like, how you liked to be held, kissed, touched. I've thought about whether your nipples are pale pink or deep rose, do you like them licked, sucked? I've pictured you naked here, with the fire glowing on your skin and nothing else. Do you taste sweet? Is your clitoris hidden or swollen and jutting out when you're aroused? Sweet Layla, you're going to beg me to fuck you, to bury my hard stiff cock into you, to fuck you deep and hard, faster and deeper. You want me to have you and I will. I'll do it my way, slowly, taking my time. I'll bring you to the edge and pull you back until I'm ready to take you over. This will be no fast furious fuck or two young kids hot for a hasty cum. You can walk away right now and we will never speak of this again, or you can stay, on my terms, the choice is yours."

I had already made the choice. This man was exciting me and I wanted him to have me, he was right. I dropped my hands to my sides and let my head fall back against Ian's chest. I knew at that moment I would submit, he knew he was the Master.

His tongue was wet and warm when he licked my cheek and then my neck. His hands were on my arms, then up to my shoulders. He pulled my hair off my neck and I felt his teeth bite my skin, I shuddered and moaned. The room was warm, the wetness from his mouth on my shoulder felt like a cool breeze. He pulled the shoulder of my top down passed my elbow and then the satin strap of my bra and it fell onto my arm. I moved deeper into his body and could feel a massive hard cock in the small of my back. I tried to reach behind me to touch him.

"Yesss, I'm going to fuck you with that, hard, deep and fast, you'll feel me cum deep, deep inside you, hot shots of cum, you'll feel it run out of you, down the inside of your thighs, mixed with your cum, but, we're not ready yet Layla, not nearly ready.'

Ian pulled the other shoulder down and then even further until the fabric was pooled around my waist sitting on my hips. The scarf was still around my neck falling down over my breasts. Ian's hands slowly inched up my sides and under my arms, he cupped his palms under my breasts and his fingers grasped each nipple, just peeking out from under the lace. Slowly he began to roll my nipples in his fingers. The moans were mine, deep and steady. His mouth was sucking the skin on my neck, biting and licking until I thought I'd go insane.

"Ummm, yesss, your nipples are so firm and rigid, so big and swollen. I've contemplated, daydreamed, fantasized many times just how your tits would feel in my hands, how I would squeeze them and how you would moan and squeal with pleasure and excitement. How many times have you teased me, rubbing these rich luscious tits against my chest? How many times have I wanted to bury my face in the deep recess of your cleavage and suck and bite these tender nubbins for hours and hours? You want me to pinch them harder, harder and harder. Maybe I'll pull them and twist them, would you like that Layla?"

"Oh my God, yesss, harder, I love it hard, make them burn, don't stop, please don't stop!"

He did stop, abruptly and I was stunned. Ian stepped in front of me and sat down on the sofa. He pulled my top down over my hips and to the floor. I stepped out of it and waited.

"Layla, I want you to straddle my lap, spread your legs over my thighs and sit here, facing me."

I climbed onto his lap and felt his cock straining against his pants, I wanted it inside me. I rubbed the length of it up and down and wrapped my fingers around the width of it. Ian's breathing changed and his breaths were quick and short, now he was moaning. In a blur his hands were around my wrists and he was saying something.

"Yes, you want my cock don't you Layla, you want me to fuck you and I will but we're not ready yet. Put your sweet hands under your thighs and don't move them. If you do and you touch me or yourself this will all end."

Ian was in complete control and I liked it, I wanted it and he knew it. He smiled at me as he slid his hands under the scarf. Again, his fingers quickly found my nipples and he continued to do just what he knew I wanted, needed. He lifted my breasts out of the cups of my bra and they rested on top of the underwire jutting forward. You could plainly see my so tender nipples thru the thin fabric of the scarf around my neck. When he leaned forward and took my right nipple between his teeth thru the fabric I promise I almost collapsed. I watched him bit and suck my inflamed nipple and I was insane with pain that became pleasure. He sucked and bit my left nipple until I pleaded with him to fuck me; he ignored my pleas and just smiled. The gold scarf fell down into my lap and when he saw my nipples he took a deep breath and kissed each one softly, tenderly.

"Layla, your nipples are deep rose, so sweet, so swollen, and so tender."

Ian reached one hand behind my back and unclasped my bra. He pulled the satin straps down over my arms and let it fall to the floor. He reached under my breasts and again cupped them in the palms of his hands, kissing each tender swollen tip. Gently he pushed my breasts together until both nipples were touching and when he leaned forward and took both jutting tips of rose into his mouth I thought I would surely die from both the sight and the feeling. His tongue whirled over and around each nub of puffy flesh and he began sucking both in and out of his mouth. The sound and the feeling were almost more than I could possibly stand. My searing rigid nipples were on fire, the burning was so powerful, and it only heightened the thrill. I was literally crying and hysterical with the consuming sensations. He had to stop or I would surely lose my mind.

"What gorgeous tits, they're so full and round I've lusted for these huge milky orbs in my hands and mouth for many a day. I could suck on these sweet cherry candies forever and then a day more. There's something else I crave Layla. You're pussy is on fire isn't Layla; I can smell it burning with want. I've waited patiently, a very long time to smell you get wet, lick you dry. I can't wait a second longer to taste you, to nibble and suck on your pleasure button. You want that too don't you Layla? You can't wait another moment to finally feel my lips and watch my tongue taste you, feel my lips surround that pulsing clit. I want you to stand up Layla, I'm going to pull your pants down and you will step out of them."

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