He likes to watch me dance
Introduction:
Some years ago I used to visit this older couple and I thought I’d like to share one of these experiences π Hope you enjoy
He likes it when I turn on the music and kick off my shoes to stand in front of his wheel chair and when I close my eyes and start to sway, he leans back with a thankful smile on his lips. The music is slow and dreamlike, a record from his old collection that reminds him of when he was young, and it creeps in under my skin and into the very structure of my bones where it takes control and makes me move.
My body is in constant, slow movement as I cock my head to one side and roll it over to the other. My pony tail caresses the upper part of my back, right between the shoulder blades. It moves from left to right before changing direction and going back again complimented by a deep sigh from my lips. My hands stroke gently across the outside of my thighs and hips, my finger tips barely touching but still lifting my skirt a few inches before dropping it again. The skirt is short and white. My panties are also white, but with little, red hearts scattered across in a random pattern. They are visible for a brief moment before the skirt falls down again and my fingers continue to trail upwards along my sides.
My hands changes paths as they reach the bottom of my rib cage and trace two crossing lines across my chest before i caress the sides of my neck, stroke my fingers through my hair and lift my arms above my head. My body has started to move like a dancing snake by now, and I open my eyes and fix them to his. He almost jumps in surprise at the intensity of my stare. I start to turn slowly, not letting go of his eyes until I have my back completely turned against him. I move my legs in small steps, the insides of my thighs moving against each other in a delicate caress. That is when I lower my arms again and start to bend over. My hands find their way to the back of my thighs and move slowly upwards, lifting my skirt again, but this time it stays up, resting on the small of my back. My thumbs find the waistband of my panties and slip underneath, maybe just an inch, and are pushed carefully down at the same time as I straighten my back.
He is not able to see what is uncovered. My skirt slides back down as I rise back up. It follows my hands and the edge of my panties, obscuring his view to my bare behind and crotch. My undies fall all the way down my legs and lands on the floor. I do not step out of them, but let them lay there as I continue my dance, slowly turning back towards him.
The bulge in his pants is clearly visible now and my eyes drop to them for a second. I smile as our eyes meet again, and when i turn my head towards his wife, I see her smiling too. She has a warm, reassuring smile, and I feel my heart flutter with joy before I close my eyes again to resume my dance. I remind her of herself when she was my age, she said to me once. So full of life and joy and love for others.
It is obvious she was a beautiful woman back then. Even though her skin is old and wrinkled, clinging to her bones in certain places, it doesn’t take much imagination to see what she looked like in her prime. I have seen the pictures and the movies and she was an angel and a teptress at the same time. It is her movements that I try to copy as I continue to twist and turn on the floor of their living room.
I drop to my knees. I sit facing the big fireplace, my back to the old man in the wheelchair and his wife, and slowly I start to peel off my t-shirt. I know a t-shirt isn’t all that elegant, I would actually rather wear a blouse or something even more sexy, like a corset, but they like the t-shirt. It is a reminder of the generation gap between us and she says it’s elegant in all its simplicity. The t-shirt is pink and plain and it lands on a chair in the corner of the room as I throw it away.
Now my torso is bare and I cross my arms in front of me, laying my hands on my shoulders and start to move again in accordance with the music. Slowly I turn again to face them, a look of shear lust in my eyes as I stare at the bulge between his thighs. The look of lust is returned as I lower my arms again and grab the hem of my skirt to lift it up. He now has clear view of my breast, rising and falling with the beat of the music and my breath, with nipples pointing hard and erect towards him. He has clear view of my shaven pussy, sparkling with moisture as I pull the inner lips apart to expose my pink opening and erect clit. His breathing becomes heavier, now matching the beat of mine and his eyes grow bigger as I start to crawl towards him, my eyes still locked on his crotch.
His wife lights another cigarette and moves closer to him, now leaning against the sofa’s arm rest. This way she has a better view as I settle in front of him and start to open his fly.
He may be old, his skin may be wrinkeled, his hair may be grey and his legs may not work, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with his cock. The beauty that I pull out of his pants is big and hard as rock; thick with veins throbbing in my hand; a shining head with a pearly, clear drop oozing out and begging to be tasted. It seems to be beckoning for my tounge, and I am not one to resist. My tounge hits the underside of his shaft first, just before my lips wraps themselves around his head and it slides slowly into my mouth.
I close my eyes and keep my mouth still, lips half way down the shaft. My tongue does all the work, tasting his precum, feeling the smoothness of his skin, the edge where the helmet begins, the string making a cleft in his head, leading me towards the hole where all the sweet nectars are flowing. Slowly I let it slide out again, examine it closely with my eyes as I slowly let my hand slide up and down. I let the head disappear half way behind his foreskin before pulling it back down again, watching a drop trickle down the shaft, across the wet area where I’ve had my mouth, down the dry area towards my hand where it finally comes to rest on my thumb. I look him in the eyes and smile as I lick it off.
As I lean forward and take it into my mouth again, a bit further down this time, he moans quietly and I can feel him thrust it towards me a little more. I produce some more saliva to make it slippery, run my mouth up and down to coat it and use my hand to assist. Then as it hits the back of my throat, I straighten my neck a little and let it slide effordlessly in until my chin rests against his balls, my nose buried in his grey pubic hair. His moan is long, loud and satisfying.
His moaning doesn’t really stop while I suck him, just gets more or less intense, more or less loud as I vary my sucking motions. When I let it slide all the way from the tip and down my throat in slow, repetative motions, his moans are more like ghasps when I’m on the way down and like a humming when I’m on the way up. When I move my head fast back and forth and let my lips just embrace his head and maybe an inch of his shaft, his moans are like short little huffs and puffs, and when I just lick his cock, up and down and in circles, the moan is long and satisfied.
Needless to say, I get horny by hearing how he is enjoying himself and by tasting the wonderful nectar coming from his cock. My hand found its way down between my thighs pretty soon after I started sucking him, and my fingers are now dripping with my juices. They’ve been disappearing into me, making splashing noises as I’ve finger fucked myself. They’ve been caressing my clit almost to extacy more than once. And the have been pinching at my pussy lips, making electric shocks run through my body while his cock has been buried deep in my throat.
I can’t take it no more. I need to feel him deep inside me. Need to get up, straddle him and ride him. I go slow. Feeling every inch of him as he slides into me. My eyes lock onto his again and he mopes as they grow wider the deeper he enters me. My clear blue irises mesmerizing him. And then he is fully buried inside my pussy. I throw my head back and tremble as the orgasm races through me.
I need to sit still for a while. My knees are not responding, feeling like jelly after the intense orgasm. He takes the opportunity to touch me. His hands feels dry, almost like paper as they cup my breasts and gently squeezes my nipples before caressing the sides of my torso, my arms, my shoulders and my neck. I enjoy his touch for a moment while my body gathers strength. Then I lift my head back up, look him in the eyes and start to ride him slowly.
He closes his eyes and let his hands do his seeing for him. They run all over my upper body as I lift myself up to plunge back down again; my movements picking up speed, my ghasps increasing in volume until I’m almost screaming, my pussy banging down on his cock, my fingers flicking madly across my clit. And then he stiffens. His eyes go wide and his hips press up against mine. We cum simultaniously. He throws his hands around me and presses me against him, his mouth finding my nipple and distantly I feel him suck on it as my body struggles to thrash around. It is one of the most intense orgasms I’ve ever had, and seeing how his wife looks at me with horny eyes, gaping mouth and heavy breathing, pulls me over the edge.
It takes me a few minutes before I am able to stand up again, feeling with regret how his cock slips out of me and how his cum pours from between my swollen lips and down on his still flaccid member. But even though I would have wanted to keep him in me for a long time still, I also want to taste. There’s not much left in him, but I still kneel down in front of him and takes him between my lips to milk the rest from his shaft. Then I proceed to lick him clean, tasting both his wonderful semen and my own honey-like juices. Finally I rest my head in his lap and listen to his regular breathing as he falls asleep. His wife smiles at me, kneels down with me and we share what little is left of the nectar from our love making before she kisses me and say “Thank you”.