Theodora - Gallantry Rewarded

"Your body is just fine. Better than fine. Women can't evaluate themselves, or predict a man's reactions either. Quit worrying – if you're no teenage Venus, well, neither am I any form of an Adonis. After the mental and emotional connections have been made – and I think they're in place between us already, despite such short acquaintance, all that's required is that all the needed parts be present and fully functional. You have an absolutely delightful body clothed, and it's bound to be infinitely more so in the nude. Now – are you serious about the invite? Because if you nod your head yes, then I'm going to accept."

She nodded several times: she was serious, indeed!

"Good!" he said – "That's settled. But we have to finish our tour of the lake. Unless you're in a frantic hurry?" She wasn't, so he set them walking again, happy over the utter lack of foot-traffic. Enroute he kept her breast cupped in his hand, fondled it lovingly, complimenting her on the texture, declaring his fascination with her large, thoroughly hardened nipple.

She shrugged – a delightful feeling against his palm – and pointed out that "her girls" were confined by a serious bra, hence he could not possibly judge such things accurately. A few yards later they passed a restroom: she grinned up at him, kissed him lightly and told him to wait outside for a moment. She returned with the wadded-up bra in her pocket, then tucked his hand under her blouse to hold her naked boob, and said with a worried grin "THERE – now at least you can feel what they're actually like. I'm not a twenty-year-old nulipara, for sure!"

Byron investigated – the breast filled his large hand to overflowing, its weight pressing outwards between his wide-spread fingers, like a water balloon softly filled with warm, half-set Jello, altogether incredibly and unexpectedly sensuous. The contact sent electricity to his brittling crotch.

He looked about, then guided her behind a nearby tall, dense shrub, raised the hem of her blouse, bent down and inhaled the nearest nipple all the way into the very back of his mouth. There he nursed until she squirmed, half with embarrassment over being in public, half from the sensations.

When he released her and let the blouse drop back down, he praised the texture and lovely erotic mouth-feel.

She tried gently to pooh-pooh his enthusiasm.

Byron wouldn't have it, replying that what one is after is erotic effect, for which there was no comparison between her soft, flowing tissues and trying to get sensation for himself out of a bb sitting atop half a rubber ball. "Theo, this is NOT a Playboy picture situation – not at all!"

She decided to accept graciously, stopped arguing, and took the initiative again. She raised the blouse's hem: "You ignored the other twin – care to fix that?"

He did so thoroughly, then together they dropped the fabric back into place. He grinned at her: "As best I can tell so far, all the important operating systems are in perfectly fine working order!"

Once again she looked about for possible witnesses. Finding none, she turned to face him squarely, took both of his hands in hers. Her new expression was odd, he thought – and then, suddenly, he recognized it. Her eyes were bright and round, the pupils dilated, face flushed, embarrassed – the precise expression of an early-teenage girl who is absolutely determined to do something probably irrational, possibly foolish, and perhaps even dangerous in some way – in any case, to pursue a course of action made even more irresistible by the certain knowledge that her elders would stridently disapprove.

He waited while she composed herself. It took several seconds.

"Byron... I'm going to rush through this so that I don't lose my nerve. It goes like this. You're still a young man, but I'm now quite an old woman, at least chronologically. Why you should feel any sexual attraction towards me is beyond comprehension, although the reverse seems perfectly rational. Perhaps that's just our society speaking... it surely isn't logical! Nowadays, time is both my most valuable possession and my biggest enemy. Procrastination and hesitation are the premier wasters of time. So – carpe diem, Theo! That kiss, mister White Knight, plus the way you treat my breasts and the fact that I find you ridiculously attractive in so many ways simultaneously, has given me courage. So here I go! I'm going to force myself to be very forward. May I be totally honest?"

"Please."

She squeezed his hands tightly, as if for safety. "So, Byron, I'd like to take you up to my place, but not just for a glass of wine." Another pause and deep breath. "You can do a complete inspection of this ancient animal I inhabit. And if you are still -for reasons unfathomable to me- interested after that, well, we can certainly give you unlimited access to all the orifices about which Mrs Theodora Justinian complained."

He stared at her for some seconds, then said softly "No doubt but what I'd enjoy making such an inspection, but I already know the result, so there's no need. None whatever!"

She smiled, fears of rejection definitely ebbing but not yet vanished: "I insist – you really must know what you're getting into – so to speak! – if you opt to continue."

"Very well – such an onerous duty you impose upon me! Let's go!"

The door shut behind them with a solid thunk: Theo turned the bolt, led Byron silently by the hand to the bedroom, where she turned to face him. Silence. He leaned forward and kissed her, a prolonged and luscious intermingling.

She broke and sighed: he said "How about we strip one another? Mutual nudity is highly to be desired... and if I simply MUST inspect YOU, then turnabout is only fair!"

She nodded, said "Then I'll start!" - she squatted, untied his shoes, loosened the laces. He stepped out: she tugged his running socks off one after the other, then stood: "Your turn!"

Slowly, carefully, he undid her blouse: it slid from her shoulders to expose her boobs which, having long since bowed to gravity, showed their three-inch sag.

She bit her lip, waiting, wishing they still stood as proudly as they had when she was a teen. Goose-bumps rioted over her forearms and chest – she was steeling herself for his reaction. Now he was reaching for her, dipping his face towards her chest, and mirabel dictu, his mouth was exploring eagerly, obviously entranced with her girls. And not just entranced but apparently in love – or at the very least, deep into lust.

He inhaled the nipples one after the other, sucked them in deeply, nursed hard, a true artist with her tits, she was lucky, lucky, LUCKY! He sent nonstop swarms of little blue flashes of delight to her brain, then after a minute or five – she couldn't tell – he pulled back and eyed them, and the rest of her body top to bottom, with such transparent delight that her worries simply evaporated.

"God almighty, Theo, what are a thirty-year-old's boobs doing on this chest? They are GORGEOUS!"

She released her lip, breathed again, realized that there was still the matter of his tee-shirt to be dealt with – preferably NOW! He raised his arms, she tugged it upwards, releasing a gust of male-pheromone-laden warm air that gave her deep belly the most incredible wrench, made her pussy suddenly, impossibly wet, something she hadn't felt for decades, hadn't been at all certain was still even possible – it pumped her confidence upwards several levels.

"You should just continue with the clothing..." she said, verging on the impatient. He nodded, muttered "Delighted!" The skirt took only a second, then the shoes, and finally, ever so slowly, he rolled her panties down. He stared as her mons came exposed – it was perfectly nude, clean-shaven. He was squatting before her, looked up and grinned broadly "Amazing! You have no idea how much I like pussies this way!" She patted him on the head as he laid a long, slow lick over the prominent rise, down into her slit, lapped delicately, briefly at her clit.

She shivered almost violently, then said "I've always shaved my pits and legs, but never my pussy. Then about fifteen years ago I was intent on seducing a fellow. In preparing my snare I studied myself in the mirror, and decided that the thing about me that made me look oldest was my bush – it was scraggly and spread way too wide and high – so I just took it off. And I love it that way. Too bad the man died before we could do anything. That damned Mother Nature again!!"

He helped her out of the panties, exclaiming over the pretty symmetry of her pussy. Byron made a little circle in the air with his hand, indicating she should pirouette. She did, slowly. He stopped her with her back to him and still in his deep squat cupped her buttocks in his hands, fondled, whispered "An absolutely lovely butt, Madam! Utterly and perfectly captivating. A very important thing to me. So far the inspection is going perfectly! Can you do prasaritta padotanasana for me, right here?"

She nodded, spread her feet far, far apart, kept her legs rigid. Byron commented on how her skin seemed never to have seen the sun, how snugly it covered what were obviously well-maintained strong muscles, as she did the requisite slow-motion fold forward from the waist until her head was touching the floor. Her buttocks spread wide, exposing pussy and anus to his gaze: she had never in life felt more vulnerable – or more excited. He ogled and gave a low running commentary as her pussy gaped invitingly - outer lips swollen and taut, the long inner lips red at the edges and making a perfect vee ending at the exposed button of her clit, her anus smoothly crinkled.

He leaned forward, sent his tongue down the entire length of her split from the very topmost reaches of her butt-cleft, across and deep into her anus, then likewise into her pussy, ending with a long cuddling of her clit. She shivered gently, nonstop, as he explored.

Finally, when her legs were shaking hard, he pulled back. "You can stand up, madam. The inspection is complete and you pass with flying colors. Every aspect is just fine! Better than fine – perhaps 'prime'?"

She stood and turned: her breasts were firmer now, the nipples seriously engorged, even the areolas crinkled into female erection. "Thank heavens!" she said as he stood and kissed her yet again: their chests pressed together, her boobs remarkably solid against his lower ribcage. "I was SO worried that you wouldn't find me adequately attractive... at least enough to make you happy for the moment."

Byron snorted: "Nonsense! But the inspection is supposed to be mutual. How about now you relieve me of these shorts?!"

That she could do! The bulge in his Jockeys was mouth-watering: they caught on the contents, but only momentarily. His hardon sprang out, wobbled, a solid curved cantilever. She stared, gasped lightly, then ran fingertips over its entire length. "My god, how lovely! I haven't seen one of these for ever so long. A decade and a half, probably. It's simply beautiful! Is it all for me?"

"You bet – it's 100% yours, you can do with it whatever you wish. And since YOU are responsible for its present condition, it's only right that you should be equally responsible for fixing that little problem. But don't worry – if you can't remember how, I'll be happy to show you a whole bunch of ways." He almost giggled: "With a little luck and some effort, the Empress will have nothing whatever on US! Now that I've inspected this magnificent machine you live in, I see no need whatever to modify my usual approach, which is half soft and gentle and slow, and half enthusiastic, strong, deep pounding..."

"How about letting me be the judge of whether anything needs moderated?" she said with a grin. "If I don't call for moderation, then everything is going fine and you can just proceed! I'm NOT some sexual shrinking violet, Doctor Byron! Shall we raid the kitchen and linen closet for supplies? I suggest we need oil, wine, and a big beach towel to protect the bed clothes..."

Theo was responsive in the extreme – and screamingly needy. He decided that the first hour's exercises were to be for her alone – told her so, squelched her arguments and protests, and proceeded to give her orgasm upon orgasm with his mouth on her pussy and fingers everywhere else, until she could hardly breathe. Her first non-self-generated orgasms in lo so many years!

When ultimately she had to demand a break, she proved herself equal to him in horniness, deep-throating with an ability she had forgotten she possessed, and which he had never encountered before. He stopped her before coming, shifted them to lying face-to-face with him propped above her, grinning lasciviously down. She wantonly raised her legs, settled her Achilles tendons atop his collarbones, and grinned back, delighted, said "Your turn. Please!? We've done so well by me, it's got to be yours!"

Byron stroked the head of his cock down the length of her slit, back up through her wet and slippery tissues, like a paintbrush or a tongue, from above the clit to well past her anus, pausing to put gentle pressure on both openings in turn, but not quite entering. A serious tease. "What's my lady's pleasure?" he asked.

"From what I can remember after all these years, when a man asks THAT, while we're in this position, it means he really wants to get into my bottom."

Byron grinned back at her, waited.

"So – since anal was always a personal favorite, and since, as you already must have observed, I haven't developed hemorrhoids, and since I have no inhibitions to get in the way, why don't you just go for it and do my bottom – so long as you start gently... but don't END gently! Intensity and force properly applied are wonderful. Especially if we use my favorite position – may I demonstrate?"

He released her, she rolled onto hands and knees.

"I love the sensation of my boobs hanging and swaying while you're sliding in and out. Especially my nipples rubbing on the sheet... all okay with you? Don't forget the oil! And Byron... you seem able to last pretty much forever, but when finally you MUST come, can we turn me around so that we can look at one another when you do?"

Later, much later in fact, as they were recuperating and spending most of the time in slow, deep kissing, the phone rang. Byron heard only one side of the brief conversation:

"Yes, he did bring me home just fine..."

"NO, he hasn't left. Not that it's any of your business daughter mine, but NO, he isn't about to leave yet."

"And in fact YES, I do believe he's going to stay the night!"

Here she eyed him, raised one eyebrow, questioning.

He grinned broadly, leaned in to kiss her nipples one after the other, then gave her a huge 'thumbs up'.

She nodded, continued the conversation without hesitating:

"I couldn't possibly care less what you think, it's my life not yours."

"We can talk later – but not about THIS until you modify your bloody damned attitude!"

She ended the call abruptly, turned off the phone, wrapped her fingers around his resurgent hardon and said "I hope you don't mind staying the night. I do believe I've forgotten how to open the front door to let you out! "

Then, fondling his hardon, "I think just to spite my damn-fool relatives we should do another round in my bottom – are you capable at the moment?"

He was.

Next morning, looking at Byron across the pillow, she sighed, bit her lip, wondering 'what now?' She didn't have to wait – he'd been through that question in his own mind and broached it nicely.

"Theo – we have the whole morning available before I have to leave – shall we see about a complete replay?"

She nodded happily. And then he said "I mentioned that I come out here often – I'll be back for four days –aka five nights- in about a month. Would you perhaps be interested in some company?"

She sat up kissed him, first on the mouth, then each nipple, then the navel, and then multiple places between hip and mid-thigh.

Well into that process she bit gently on his hardon and said "I suppose I could stand it – so long as you bring this with you and I get free and unlimited use. And so long as you promise to stay here every time you visit the city."

"It's a deal..." Byron said. "Now, about that unlimited use provision... we have to keep repeating the exercise until we get it right. I can still think of a whole passel of things we haven't even tried. So can you, I'll bet."

He was right on both counts.