Fleet Week

Her blouse was off now. For the first time I could hear her breathing. It had stepped up a bit. Another good sign. I wanted to unhook her bra and suck on those old hangars but I paused, I stopped and walked around in front of her, looking her over. Sizing her up.

Maybe it was the hour, the light or the single glass of wine I had, but she was looking better. Droopy arms and ass but her belly was only slightly round. Nice tits. I walked up to her smiling, boldly paced my right hand on her left breast and squeezed, still looking her over. Then I kissed her again and this time, her tongue responded. Then her mouth began almost mewing and her arms came up again but this time, they wrapped around my waist and pulled me to her. I reached behind and unclasped her bra and tossed it into one of the many dark corners. Big, big nipples. God, what a pleasant surprise. I fell to my knees and began sucking them, nipping at the ends and running my hands at the same time under her skirt. I felt her soft ass again, then yanked the panties down.

Like an old time photographer, I tossed up her filmy slip and dove into her crotch with my tongue. I heard a brief 'no' for the first time but I ignored it. In for a penny, in for a pound. Her cunt was damp with a pleasant little mound that responded to my tongue. She seemed to be moving away and I had to crawl stupidly across the floor until she finally backed up against the table and I was able to spread apart her chunky legs and really go at her.

At first I flicked with my tongue while she breathed faster and faster, then I took an entire labia lip and sucked at it. This really sent her spinning and old Mrs. Durnstedt began thrusting at my face and started to call out something.

I reluctantly came out from under my hiding place and in a surprisingly abrupt and vigorous move, Mrs. Durnstedt pulled my face to hers and began sucking on my mouth and licking my chin, forehead and ears.

Her breaths were coming more rapidly now, like a sprinter who had just finished a 100-yard dash. She moved down my chest, undid my belt (shiny brass buckle, polished to a perfect sheen) and yanked down my crisp white trousers, then started digging eagerly for my hard tool.

I wish I could say she was good at cock sucking but, alas, she was not. She was, however, quite enthusiastic although she nipped just a tad too hard now and then. I pulled my cock from her mouth and it made an audible pop on the way out. I held it and painted my pre cum on her forehead, eyes and chin while she (gently, this time) cupped my balls in her right hand and looked up into my eyes for the first time.

Even in the half darkness I knew this was no longer the shy dowager I had seen when I entered her home. There was a fierceness in her eyes and no pretense of shyness or modesty. There was hunger. There was an eager surrender.

I dropped my dick and pulled her up by both flabby arms. I kissed her hard on the mouth and she pressed herself uncompromisingly to my crotch. I leaned over and sucked some more on those glorious titties, then yanked off her half slip and feasted on her naked white skin which contrasted sharply with the semi darkness all around.

Looking her in the eyes, I felt her neck, her shoulders and her tits while she watched me and continued to breathe faster. I bent down to kiss her slightly drooping belly and licked briefly at her cunt, which drew a moan. Standing up, I spun her around and pushed my cock against her ass. She seemed to be resisting slightly so I gently slapped her ass cheek and pushed again, then reached around cinching her ass to my cock by cupping each wonderful tit and pulling them toward me. I ground into her ass and let one hand free to probe her snatch which was warm and moist to my touch.

This old New York aristocrat was hot and eager to do whatever I wanted. She smelled wonderful and as I jammed one, two, then three fingers into her cunt while flicking at her clit with my thumb I was worried I would shoot all over her ass and never penetrate the woman at all.

This was not going to happen.

Abruptly, I spun her around. "Get on the floor," I said. "I'm ready to fuck you now."

If a naked old woman can crawl to the floor and spread her legs in a decorous manner, Mrs. Durnstedt did it. The little paunch to her belly looked like a wonderful soft landing strip for my 6-foot body. I pulled off all my clothes, draped them over the couch and wondered absently if the "help" might wander in to see what all the commotion was about. One look at Mrs. Durnstedt and I figured, probably not.

Her legs were wide apart and I could easily make out her furry bush and yawning hole against the rich texture of the Persian rug on the floor. Her flabby arms were outstretched toward me but the most unusual thing was that her lovely fingers were reaching out as though she were playing the piano in space.

"Grab my cock, Mrs. Durnstedt. And my balls. How does that feel? I'm going to push my cock into you and spray your insides with my sperm. I think I'm going to cum so hard that, well, you just might taste it."

And then she finally spoke. "Fuck me with that big stallion cock."

And I was on her like a cat at that point, pushing easily into her sweet little twat, probing for a while until she was finally juiced up just right and I could bottom out in her elderly womb.

"Uumph, uumphh," she grunted, half in pain, half in ecstasy. I was riding her for all I was worth.

"Do you like me fucking you on the floor, Mrs. Durnstedt? Do you like my cock ramming your old cunt hole? Do you?"

I know. This was kind of ugly but I was in the moment and my ancient riding partner didn't seem to mind at all.

"Yes, yes, yes," she said in a nice slow rhythm to my fucking. Then, as though she were being really naughty, she reached behind me and pulled my ass into her as though she never wanted me to come out.

Then it was quiet except for the plop, plop, squish, slap of good sex and the sound of the mantle clock, keeping its own rigid time, despite the faster pendulum of my crotch slapping against hers.

Mrs. Durnstedt let out a little shudder that I assumed was an orgasm but it seemed more like one of those stifled sneezes that some women make. I knew she could do better.

I rolled us over on the carpet so she was now on top and the look in her eyes suggested to me that this was a position quite new to her. It took her no time at all, however, to become acclimated. She began grinding on my erection and I licked at the dangling nipples, reached behind her to pull at the soft ass . . .

"You are a great fuck. A wonderful fuck. I love your tits, old woman . . . ."

And now she was "uh... uh ..., uhhh . . ." and I could tell she was about ready to cum in a big way so I took a whole mouthful of old lady tit and jammed a finger into her ass, then shot a load into her ancient hole with such vigor that my eyes involuntarily shut and then a moment later, with my jism still pumping into her, she screamed "God, yes!" pushed one last time and fell on me with my mouth still sucking at her elderly dug, my spent cock in her cunt and my finger in her ass. It was glorious.

I made it back to the ship that night courtesy of Mrs. Durnstedt's limousine service, looking more done in than after any debauched evening in Olongopo, Philippines.

I thought I had seen the last of Mrs. Durnstedt and that strange and wonderful evening. The next morning was sunny and warm and the events of the day before seemed far away.

Then I saw the familiar limousine pull up the pier and park next to the ship. A uniformed chauffeur got out, walked up to the quarterdeck, then returned to the car and drove away. A few moments later, the 1MC announced that I should report to the Quarterdeck. When I did, there was an envelope (and some snickers from the watchstanders) waiting for me.

I took the envelope, walked to the fantail and opened it.

Lieutenant,

Thank you so much for sharing dinner and dessert with me last evening. I believe it is important to show our support and appreciation of the armed forces of the United States. I am enclosing a donation to be used by you to show that support in a manner you believe most appropriate.

If you ever again return to New York, I would be most disappointed if you did not telephone.

All the best,

Elizabeth Durnstedt

Inside were 10 $100 bills.

I guess it was only right that one strange letter would top off one strange evening. It didn't take me long to decide that my favorite charity was me and I made the most of that cash on my last night in the Big Apple. No women, though. I was pretty much done in from the day before.

Unfortunately, I never had the chance to return to New York and Mrs. Durnstedt but I often think of her soft hands on my cock, her eager participation in a lusty fucking and those great tits flicking at my face as I rammed it to her. And I think of the clock on the mantle, its steadfast ticking and the inevitable progression of time . . . .