Written by Johnny
25 Nov 2004
Training with Babs
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As a number of you seemed to like hearing about older women (and there’s another book group story to come), I thought you might like another true story which happened to me a bit ago with a lady called Babs.
I was in the bar of a hotel early one evening, where I’d arranged to meet my colleague Dave for a chat about work, when into the bar came a woman who should really have been serving there. Her wrap-around silk top barely covered her fantastic DD boobs; her cleavage was something to dive into; her black leather skirt was really too short both for her thighs and her age; but she knew how to walk in her tall spiky heels. And the seams up the back of her stockings were extra compensation. The hotel was one of those just out of town places which is fairly soulless and gets used by firms for training or sales conferences. Which is what tonight’s crowd looked like. Anyway, she ordered a drink and sat in a corner facing me.
I sat with my drink, glancing across at her from behind my paper. Her skirt had ridden up enough to show a glimpse of her stocking top. She also occasionally glanced in my direction and around the bar, whilst looking at her watch. No sign of Dave, which wasn’t entirely surprising because he was usually late and often later if he happened to have succeeded in chatting up one of our clients’ receptionists or secretaries. And no sign of whoever was meant to be keeping those bra-busting boobs company.
After a while, looking pretty pissed off, she ordered another drink. I was beginning to give up on Dave, so I went up to the bar, got myself another drink and, as I passed her corner, asked, “Has yours not turned up either? Would you like some company until they do.” “That would be good. I’m well fed up. You’re not Barry, by the way.” “No”, I said, “who’s Barry?” “A guy I met through a contact ad who’s meant to be meeting me here, the bastard. I had to make up a story to my old man about how I was going out with the girls, which is something I can’t do every night of the week. Now I’m stuck here for the next couple of hours.” “Well, maybe we both are”, I said. “Tell me more”. And I sat down beside her.
It turned out her husband had given up on sex following what she described as a small heart scare, which, when you took her all in, wasn’t entirely surprising. Anyway, it was no good for our Babs, who said she was 49 and had been hitting the contact ads for the last few months. She hadn’t had a lot of success and told some real horror stories. Barry had sounded just the guy, which was why she felt really let down. By the third drink, though, she was certainly mellowing and getting a tad emotional, so I patted her gently on the knee, letting my hand move slowly up her thigh. She looked at me curiously and I thought she was going to tell me to stop, but instead she put an arm round my neck and pulled me to her. I felt myself crushing her full, soft breasts, as she kissed me hungrily. Then I heard her whisper in my ear, “Do you know anywhere we could go in this place?”
As it happens, I knew where the training rooms were, just along the corridor from the bar. Not the height of comfort but who needed comfort when you had Babs’s stunning body. So with that, we downed our drinks and I led her along the corridor and into the first room on the right. The room was set for a seminar, velvety cloth on a long table in the middle; the room was barely lit by the lights in the courtyard outside. I shut the door and began kissing her. Babs’ tongue slid round and down my throat.
It was no problem sliding my hand inside her loose top and around an enormous breast. As I squeezed it, she let out a low growl. I found the nipple, which was thickening to the size of my thumb and squeezed that. As I did I heard a gasp, followed by “yes, that’s it, grab me hard.” I grabbed as hard as I could with one hand whilst undoing the bow which tied up her top, which fell apart so that I could now yank her tits out of her bra and work on them both. “Oh,God, that’s fantastic. Go on, as hard as you can.” Her tits were so ripe and the nipples stuck out a mile. I crammed as much of her breast as I could in my mouth and worked my teeth and tongue around the nipple. I could hear her moaning and then felt her tugging at my zip. I undid my trousers and slid down my pants to let out my prick, which was now so swollen.
“Turn around and bend over the table, sweetheart. Now we’re both going to have some fun.” She bent over and hitched up her skirt to show her suspenders, stockings, leading down to the amazing spikes of her heels. Some tiny black knickers stretched across her very full arse. When I moved to pull them down I found they were already drenched with her juices. I pressed myself behind her and continued to pummel her breasts. Then I moved my hands back to slip her knickers off and hold each of her arse cheeks. I eased them apart to open up her sopping pussy. As I held the cheeks apart I ran first my index fingers, then gradually the fingers of both hands up and down her cunt lips, first a light brush and then more and more firmly, gradually working my fingers nearer and nearer to her clit. I was determined to make her wait, even though she could feel my prick against her arse and was by now begging me to fuck her.
“Just a little while longer”, I said. And with that I plunged my fist into her, using my knuckles to knead the walls of her cunt and her swollen clit. It was enough for Barbara who bucked and her legs trembled as she came to a juddering climax.
“And now for some more”, at which I rammed my prick right into her as far as I could, my balls nearly disappearing. I plunged in and out of her, hearing the squelch as my prick drove in and out of her dripping cunt whilst I continued to rub the mound of her clit. I could see that by now she had grabbed her tits which had been resting on the table and was squeezing them as hard as I had, groaning and moaning as she did so. She was obviously coming to a massive second climax, when I sensed the door click quietly behind me and somebody there. I wasn’t going to stop now. I needed to fuck Babs as much as she needed a good fucking and we both came, her cunt grabbing my prick as my cum shot inside her.
Still inside her I glanced round and saw, to my relief, Dave, a huge grin on his face slowly wanking his massive prick. As I withdrew from her cunt, her juices and dribbles of my cum slithering down her thighs, I walked round to the table, making sure Babs was kept facing away from the door. My prick was wilting a bit, so I sat on the table and suggested to Babs that if she could work on it, there’d be more of the same. She wasn’t going to let the opportunity go, bent over and started to lick first my balls and then my stiffening cock. It was fantastic to sense the warmth of her wet tongue working up from beneath my balls, then up my prick until she reached my knob end, which she worked expertly with the tip of her tongue before plunging my prick into her mouth and throat. She started sucking me, whilst I lent forward and grabbed her tits. Her nipples were still swollen and I squeezed them in my fingers. I could hear her groaning as she sucked my cock. Dave saw his chance, her arse stuck up facing him and he rammed his engorged prick right into her. The look on her face as she looked up at me was brilliant. “It’s OK,” I said. “It’s only Dave.” “Christ, she gasped, feels like a fucking stallion”. The harder Dave fucked, the more she sucked in rhythm to his shafting. Suddenly she felt more desperate, riding up and down my prick, as Dave rammed into her. I squeezed her tits even harder as Babs and me came together. As she swallowed my cum, Dave let out a groan as he unloaded himself into her.
Barry didn’t know what he’d missed.