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Joolijools and I kissed as soon as we got in my car. She looked at me with those tired green eyes that expressed her sorrow that she wasn’t Michelle Pfeiffer or even Audrey Hepburn. My hand automatically went around her head, with its permed middle-aged ginger curls, and pulled her large skull towards me and those eyes narrowed and closed as she gave herself to the kiss. Her tongue moved accommodatingly with mine, keen to contribute but wanting to be led. My hand instinctively went to her breasts and felt their bulk and firmness. The warm, reassuring feeling of a nice big pair of boobs sent a surge of blood into my dick and her hand slid up my thigh to find the swelling.We had got into my car without discussing it. I presumed he had her own, somewhere in this gravelled square behind the hotel, but we hadn’t even discussed where we were going when I had stood up and said, “Let’s go.”“Are you disappointed?” she asked softly as I leaned across to the passenger seat. “That it’s me?”I placed her hand on my cock and kissed her politely on the lips.“Does it feel like I’m disappointed?” I said as I took her nipples between my fingers and felt their shape through the layers of bra and jumper. “I’ve always fancied you,” I said.“Really?” she retorted. “You could Ataşehir Escort have fooled me. “Always polite but distant. Mind you, I could feel your eyes disappearing down my cleavage sometimes. But I thought that was my imagination.”While we were on the subject, I slid my right hand inside her jumper and worked it inside the bra, so I had a big handful of breast flesh.I had known there was something familiar about this Joolijools woman as soon as I read her profile. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but I just got the definite feeling I had met her before. She was a straight-talking type, unpretentious and unsophisticated, but with the “university of life” attitude making up for her lack of education.I wasn’t looking for a library partner or someone to share internet research duties with. I was just looking for a woman to have a good time or two with, and if the conversation that led to the sex was interesting, so much the better.She didn’t want to exchange photos before we met, and I decided to take a chance on that. I have pretty broad tastes in women, and I can usually find something attractive about them. Plus I’m not exactly Brad Pitt myself, although I expect most women to be neither embarrassed to be seen with Ataşehir Escort Bayan me nor repulsed to be alone with me.We had arranged to meet in a pub that did food in the evenings. I didn’t go there as a rule and I didn’t expect to find anyone I knew there, although you never know. And when she walked in I was slapped by the competing emotions of hoping she was my date and quickly adapting to the situation if she wasn’t, planning how I could turn things to my advantage. This was quiet, sexy Sheila, who used to come into the pub I worked at years ago and sit at the bar with her sister. She hadn’t been top of my list of fantasies because there were plenty of nice women customers, but I had passed many a lunchtime half-hour in conversation with the two debt-collector sisters, who seemed as hard as their occupation must have demanded, and yet there was a softness behind Sheila’s facade that told me some man would be the lucky recipient of her private femininity.“You know what’s going to happen if we go to my place, don’t you?” I asked.“You’re going to shag me,” she said. I loved the confidence with which she defined our roles. So many women these days talk about the act as if they are in the driving seat, when in Escort Ataşehir fact most still want to be seduced, kissed, felt up, undressed and penetrated. Maybe they are more proactive now, to use a word that emerged at about the same time as the change was happening. But Sheila clearly enjoyed being reactive rather than asking the questions.“Yes,” I said. “I’m going to shag you. Isn’t it funny how two people can be well behaved and civilised when what they really want to do is get their clothes off and play with each other’s bodies?”“Yes,’ she replied. “I do want you to play with me and I intend to play with you. And I’m going to start now.” With that, she lowered herself towards my lap and unzipped my trousers, pulled out my cock and plunged it into her mouth. “He’s nice and big,” she observed. “I used to daydream about sucking you.”We decided to leave her car there, because I lived close by, and in minutes we were in my kitchen, she backed up against a cupboard with me pressed against her and my hand between her legs, having quickly lifted the knee-length skirt that I was so glad she was wearing. Her pubes were abundant and fluffy and her vagina was soft and cushioned. For some reason, it crossed my mind that vaginas are always like that, but I wondered if that is because every time I’ve had my hand there, the woman has been aroused, so maybe what they feel and doctors feel is slightly different.“Let’s go and sit down,” she whispered, and kissed me tenderly. “We should take it slowly or it will all be over too quickly and we’ve waited for it so long.”
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