The Charm of Maturity

The bedroom door opened, and immediately the light of the full moon sharply outlined in the dark void of the doorway the silhouette of a woman dressed in a silk robe, tightly cinched with a belt. A few moments later, the sound of the door closing reached me, along with the scent of sharp perfume and the smell of a freshly washed female body, which made my head spin. At once, blood, running in a warm wave through my body, chased away the last remnants of sleep.

— Did you get the wrong room?

— That can't be! — my subconscious immediately informed me; she herself made your bed, taking only one set of bed linen from the closet.

Meanwhile, my eyes, through half-closed lashes

and eyelids, watched the further development of events. The woman's hand, sliding along the door handle, touched the belt, undoing it with one movement, causing the robe, tightly stretched across her chest, to part, revealing to my gaze full breasts, the pleasant roundness of her stomach, and the dark hollow of her navel, clearly standing out against the smooth, seemingly snow-white skin in the moonlight. The woman froze for a second, as if doubting her actions, but a moment later, a waterfall of silk cascaded to her feet, leaving her completely naked. The first step was taken towards the bed, and the pink buds of her nipples swayed synchronously with the movement of her body.

Now everything fell into place: the pseudo-accidental touches with her breasts, the tight dresses, the bending over for some object that absolutely had to be retrieved in my presence, showcasing a seductive and toned backside, despite the fact that the nocturnal visitor was much older than me. The edge of lace panties, accidentally caught by my eye, a t-shirt without a bra, and an extremely insistent offer to stay the night at her place—it all came together into a complete, unified picture after the few steps the woman took towards my bed. Her hand lifted the edge of the blanket, and then her entire body, which I had the pleasure of observing, having performed smooth and slow movements, ended up next to me. The musky scent of the woman made my head spin, and I meanwhile quietly whispered what had already become habitual:

— Lyudmila Viktorovna?

In response to my words, the index finger of her right hand rested on my lips, interrupting the whisper that had just begun. Then her hand began to descend lower, traveling down my neck, chest, and stopping only on the hard bulge protruding from my shorts, making it even harder, although it seemed the limit had already been reached.

— Oh, I feel he's waiting for me, — she said with a chuckle, moving closer, and because of this, goosebumps ran over my body, caused by the realization of what was about to happen, even though what was happening still seemed impossible and unreal.

— I haven't had a man in a long time, and I want to spend this night with you, — simultaneously with her words, her hand grasped my shaft and began rhythmic movements. This was the last straw, and all the chains of conventions, public opinion, taboos, and prohibitions, with a ringing that echoed in my ears, shattered into tiny fragments and flew off into infinity, leaving only the sensation of a warm female body next to me. My hand, having completed its journey from the hollow of her navel down her stomach, passing the nipple bud hardening from the touch between my fingers, stopped, sinking into the hair on the back of Lyudmila Viktorovna's head, and my lips touched hers.

— I'm making out with my mother-in-law, — a random thought slipped through and immediately drowned in the sparkle of her eyes and the deep breathing of the woman who was caressing me more and more insistently, and I did not remain in debt, responding in kind.

— Just don't rush, — her lips whispered to me and slightly bit the lobe of my right ear, while her hands freed the hardest part of my body from my underwear. Throwing a leg over me, she sat on top, and my stomach felt the hot wetness of her loins, already flowing with love juice in full force.

— Don't move yet. Taking my male essence in her hand, she guided it deep inside herself and, with a resonant moan—an exhale—sat down on my hips. The sweet sensation of flesh sinking into flesh flooded my consciousness, which concentrated only on the increasingly deep penetration into the tight and hot cave of pleasure, into which I was being drawn more and more insistently by the woman sitting on me.

— So good, — her lips exhaled into the night darkness.

— I was already starting to forget how pleasant it is to be with a man, — and her hips began a leisurely but increasingly accelerating movement with each minute. My member inside moved faster and faster, and soon, unable to hold back any longer, I pulled towards me Lyudmila, who had been sitting vertically until then, so that her breasts touched mine, and began moving assertively and powerfully, with the familiar dull slapping sounds that all passionate lovers know. Meanwhile, the deep sighs of my partner turned into no less sweet moans.

— If you want, you can be on top, — reached me through a moan, which I did not hesitate to take advantage of, reluctantly exiting Lyudmila Viktorovna and spending a few moments to admire the revealed picture of a mature female body. Droplets of sweat glistened in the moonlight in the hollow between her breasts, whose mounds were crowned with pink nipples of not large size, perfectly rounded. Unable to resist, I ran my tongue from one to the other, finally taking it in my lips.

— Do you like it? — the sounds flew into the darkness silvered by the moonlight of the night.

— You have very beautiful breasts, — I said, positioning myself on top between Lyudmila's widely spread, slightly bent knees. The gateway of pleasure let me inside more easily than the first time, tightly embracing my shaft with its hot embrace. My partner quietly gasped and a barely audible:

— Keep going, — escaped her lips. Entering at first barely a third of the length of my rod, I gradually increased the depth of penetration, and after a few voluptuous minutes, our bodies merged completely, noticeably rocking the bed. At some point, Lyudmila's legs ended up on my shoulders, and through moans of pleasure, I heard: "You can cum right inside me!", which served as the trigger for those seconds of pleasure that knock out memory and cloud the mind, when I erupted inside the woman with hot white streams.

Waking up in the morning on crumpled and already dried sheets, feeling the pleasant aftertaste of a stormily spent night, I noticed the silk belt of the robe, forgotten by the door at night, and the image of Lyudmila Viktorovna again arose in my memory. Hearing the kettle boiling in the kitchen, I got dressed and hurried to breakfast. Lyudmila was sitting at the table in a dress whose buttons were undone below the boundary of decency, exposing to public view a seductive, full breast.

— You want to ask what happened yesterday? Simply two people helped each other relieve some tension, to mutual satisfaction, — she said.

— We are not blood relatives, so it's okay for us,

I think so, — the last words were accompanied by a smooth turn of her shoulders, during which the fabric of the dress clearly outlined the contour of the breast that had given me so much pleasure at night.

— I can't help but agree with you, the night was wonderful and I'm glad we spent it together.

— Let this remain our little secret, — her little tongue ran over her lips, swollen after the night, licking off droplets of tea.

— I learned about some problems in your bedroom and decided to help you get release, and when we have similar meetings in the future, we will keep our entertainment a secret.

— I agree with you, — after my words, the reward was the self-satisfied smile of a mature woman who knows her worth.