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What a drag! I finally had to appear at the court for a week for jury selection. Thanks to COVID-19 and my age, I had been able to dodge my civic duties several times in the last two years. I was glad to be off the hook for jury duty. Being fully vaccinated and with the pandemic in decline, I no longer could avoid the summons this time around.
I took public transportation to the courthouse, navigated my way through its halls and found myself in a large room with some 50 people already present. I took a front row seat (unlike school, sitting the back does not increase your invisibility), and waited as more potential jurors drifted into the room.
After I settled in a seat in the front row just to the right of the podium, and started working on a crosswords puzzle, a woman walked into the room. She had an elegant, regal air about her. As she passed me by, she gave me the once-over. I returned the favour. She must have liked what she saw. I certainly liked what I saw.
Her hair was silvery almost to the point of being white. Her eyes were blue-gray. She was dressed in a white blouse and pants with vertical stripes in white, orange and blue. As she was already tall and thin, it only had the effect of making her seem taller and thinner. She wore sandals. After all, it was summer in the city. She managed to come across as refined without being fashionable.
I had no idea who she was. When it came to types, I normally favoured the curvaceous and the voluptuous. She was neither. She was an old woman but that was no problem because I was an old man. There are some guys out there who prefer younger woman no matter how old they themselves were. Not me, I was always attracted to women in my own age group. When I was young, I preferred young women. When I was middle-aged, I preferred middle-aged women. Now that I was old, I preferred old women. Why? Because being contemporaries increased the possibility of common understanding and a common world view even though we had otherwise lived entirely separate lives.
But what was the attraction? I was just an average retired guy. Maybe she liked my looks because I was her type. But maybe it was something else. After all, I was attracted to her too even though she wasn’t my physical type and I had, as yet, no gauge on her personality.
The only explanation I could come up with were pheromones. Yes, pheromones, a type of hormone that is exuded from both males and females that and has an attractive impact on others, usually of the other gender. To make it plain, our physical types may have been barely relevant and our compatibility as personalities were totally unknown. Therefore the attraction was entirely sexual.
In any case, this thin, yet attractive, creature walked by me and took a seat in the front row several aisles farther away.
Jury selection was supposed to take place at 9:30 a.m. but no court officials showed up. In fact, we waited for an hour and a half when finally a court official appeared. She explained that, by coincidence, no court cases were going to trial this week and therefore we were free to go. We even got a bonus, we would not be called for jury duty for the next three years. If we were, all we had to do was wave our current summons to the court official to prove our exemption.
Normally, I would have just taken off to get away from a duty, especially given that I didn’t really want to perform it in the first place. However, if selected I would have done my duty as a juror. This time, I dallied and waited for her. As she approached, I stood up, smiled at her and said, “Well, wasn’t that short.” It was rhetorical question whose answer was obvious to her and any other who had been summoned.
“Yes, it was,” she agreed.
I saw that twinkle in her eye again and took the plunge. “Would you like to go for a coffee?”
“Sure,” she said and we headed toward the elevator. I introduced myself to her and she introduced herself as Claire.
Once we were outside, she didn’t flinch when I boldly but gently took her arm in mine and led to a nearby café. We took a table on the patio and ordered a coffee. I asked for a cinnamon bun and asked her if she would like to eat something too. “My treat.” I said.
“A cinnamon bun for me too, please,” she replied.
Not being a talkative type, I had to scramble to say something to keep the conversation going. What can you say to a total stranger? So I hemmed and hawed and managed to raise a trivial subject that was enough to kick start a conversation that lasted almost two hours. We talked about everything but avoided talking about our personal relationships or the careers we had before retirement. Clearly she was smart, articulate and well educated.
From her mannerisms and the way she talked, I hazarded a guess that Claire was probably well known in her field and yet nothing about her rang a bell for me. I surmised that her professional circles did not intersect with mine at all. She could have been, for example, a ballet dancer, because she had the figure almanbahis adresi and grace to be one but I wasn’t the least but interested in ballet. She could have been in a medical profession for all knew because my job in the transportation would not have intersected with her world. Nevertheless, I thought I was getting at least some sense of her personality. It was time to put this sense to the test.
“Can I be honest with you?” I asked. Then I confessed, “I don’t really know you. So it’s hard for me to say what I want to say without fear of offending you.”
“Offending me?” she asked.
“I’m a straight-forward kind of guy,” I told her. “If I’m diplomatic at all, it’s because it’s a skill I have learned but my preference is to get straight to the point, especially in a situation like this.”
“Oh? That’s a strange thing to say,” she said. “What are you getting at?”
Now, I was starting to feel really uncomfortable. I second-guessed myself. I wondered if I had misread her. If so, I was on the verge of getting it all wrong. For all knew, she could be some kind of uptight sanctimonious religious nut although the way she had given me the once-over spoke against that possibility. That once-over in the courtroom reminded me that I actually did have some insight about her after all. she found me attractive.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. The worst that could happen was pissing her off and her walking away, leaving me to pay a bill which I was going to pay anyway. “Okay,” I finally said, “Please don’t be offended by what I’m about to say even if it sounds offensive. Okay?”
“I can’t guarantee you that,” Claire said, “but I’ll keep an open mind.”
“Fair enough,” I said.
“You’re a very attractive woman,” I told her, “and I don’t know why because I’ve just met you.” I screwed my courage and, lowering my voice, added, “Don’t be offended but I think you’re hot.”
“It is the height of summer,” she observed.
‘God, this woman wasn’t going to make it easy for me,’ I moaned silently.
“What?” She smiled at me and looked at me coquettishly. She paused for a moment. “Oh, do you mean hot without a temperature?”
I almost choked at this point. I was both embarrassed for being so transparent but also relieved that we had at least made a step. In what direction, I had no idea, but I supposed I would learn soon enough.
“Yes,” I agreed. “I might as well lay my cards out on the table. I’m very attracted to you and, unless I completely misread you, you are also attracted to me.”
She flushed. I was encouraged. It looked like I had read her correctly. That at least confirmed my initial impression about her once-over of me but I needed her to confirm it.
It seemed that we were making progress. Firstly, we had genially compatible personalities as well as mutual physical attraction. Secondly, we had somehow arrived at an unspoken agreement to keep our former professions out of the conversation.
Claire took up the thread of our earlier conversation, the one I had interrupted with small talk. Then she said, “I am.”
“You are what?” I asked needing clarity.
“I am attracted to you,” she clarified. “A lot,” she added.
That was music to my ears. I looked straight into her eyes and said, “Damn, I’m so hot for you.” And I was being entirely sincere. My cock was stirring.
“Now what are we going to do?” I muttered to myself. It was intended to be a private thought but instead I had verbalized it. I realized what I had done. To say I was embarrassed would be an understatement. I must have I turned as red as a beet because I could feel the heat in my face.
She was smiling was obviously not offended. What a relief!
She waited for me to say more. I took a great leap forward. “How about a nearby hotel?” I ventured to suggest. It was either a bold move or an extraordinarily foolish one depending on how Claire reacted. My judgment was not optimal now because I was not good at logic at a time when my dick was borrowing blood from my brain. In my defence, it is difficult to transition from a mind set focussed on spending time in a courtroom to an entirely different one in the bedroom with a woman who I had only just met.
“I agree,” she said with a sexy smile and husky voice.
I swear she was churning more of her powerfully seductive pheromones. I was probably emitting as well. I didn’t detect anything but then again my pheromones would normally only attract susceptible human females.
I could almost hear the gears in my sex-addled mind trying to come up with a more concrete suggestion. Because we were both on the same jury panel, I thought, it meant that she, like me, lived in city’s core district.
“Give me a minute,” I told her. I pulled out my cell phone and looked for a hotel. I rummaged through the possibilities and gave her a running commentary on the amenities in and around the hotel.
I wondered if she would go for one of the fancy hotels but I was pleasantly almanbahis adres surprised when she chose one that was simple, clean and relatively cheap. It had a television, and wi-fi but not much else. “I believe that watching TV and surfing the Internet are not on our agenda,” she said dryly. “There are a lot of places around that hotel where we can eat.”
I thought I detected lust and impatience in the tone of her voice.
“Friday or Saturday night?” I asked.
“How about Friday and Saturday night?” she answered.
‘Damn, two nights with this sexy babe!’ I thought. ‘Wow, I’ve hit the jackpot!’
My cock swelled in eager anticipation of our tryst. But it was painful inside the confines of my jockey because there was no room to allow my prick to stretch out, unhindered, to its full length. I stuck my left hand in my pants and quickly made an effort adjust it so that it could straighten out unimpeded. I pretended I was reaching for my wallet in my pants pocket.
She giggled. She noticed what I was doing and smiled knowingly at me. She looked at outline oft my hand in my left pocket, then at the outline of my wallet in my right pocket and then directly at the burgeoning bulge in between. She leaned over and whispered, “If it’s any consolation,” she whispered in my ear, “I’m wet for you.”
My cocked pulsed. I considered myself lucky that I didn’t blow my wad then and there. Consolation! It was music to my ears! Or maybe I should say it was music to my cock?
In my excitement, I fumbled the cell phone and almost dropped it. Catching it in time, I gave her the room number. I finally remembered my manners.
After paying the waiter, we parted ways. She said she had to make a quick trip home to pick up a few things. I wondered if she was just playing me and would not show up. In latter case, I would have become the victim of a cock teaser, express my disappointment paying for one lonely night in the room, and at best console myself with masturbation and an image of her in mind mind. But the lust had seen in her eyes told me that I would see her again soon.
* * *
I arrived at the hotel around 4:00 in the afternoon. It was simple, clean and copy. It had a queen-size bed. I checked out the bathroom. It was also clean. Fresh towels lay on a shelf above the sink.
Claire had assured me that she would arrive around 5:00 p.m. She kept her promise. She had changed clothes, wearing a white blouse and red plaid skirt whose hem hung just below her knees. She had beautiful legs which reinforced my impression that she might have been a dancer at least at some point in her life..
Since we were both hungry, we decided to have dinner at a nearby restaurant. We talked about a lot of things although she didn’t say all that much. By unspoken mutual understanding, we never spoke about our jobs or our relationships. My one attempt to do so was politely evaded.
“There’s a bar with dancing a few doors down,” I told her. “You want to go there for a drink and perhaps a little dancing?”
“Sure,” she agreed.
The bar was only partially full. It was dimly lit. We decided to take a table near the corner at the back. We could see everyone but everyone else would have to look backwards to see us. That suited me just fine. As it turned out, we had arrived just in time for the live band’s first set.
I shifted over sit closer to her closer. She smiled and closed the gap. I thought of putting my arm around her shoulder but decided instead to take a bolder step. I place my hand on her lovely thigh. She put her hand on mine. I used my fingers to pull up her skirt a piece at a time until the hem was in my hand. I let my hand glide over to the inside of her velvety thigh. She made no effort to discourage me.
She put her head on my shoulder. Encouraged by her complaisance, I pushed my hand further up her skirt and discovered that she was both panty-less and hairless! I was tempted to stick my finger into her vaginal opening in order to find out if she was as wet as I hoped. In the end, I decided to stop. I wanted to tease her and get her worked up. I also didn’t want anyone in the bar to inadvertently catch me in the act of feeling her up. That would have been an embarrassment for both us and could have spoiled our dance of seduction.
When the band was playing a slow sensual song, I withdrew my hand and asked her to dance. We got up and took to the dance floor. It had not taken long for the bar to be full of customers. The dance floor was crowded.
I initially took the dance pose, left hand holding the lady’s right hand, my right hand on the back of the lady’s shoulder while her arm rested her arm on the top of mine and, in a nod to public modesty, a small gap between us. But she would have none of this. She both her arms around my neck and closed the gap. She pressed her lithe body against mine and pasted her her modest breasts to my chest. She then shifted her left arm lower down my upper arm so that she could place the right side of her almanbahis adresi face on my right shoulder. As we danced, she occasionally looked up and gifted me with sweet sexy smile.
Of course, once she pressed herself against me, I had a instant hard-on. A sexually enticing woman was holding me tightly. On top of that was the anticipation of discovering and exploring her female treasures. But I was better prepared this time. I had surreptitiously adjusted my cock so that it could expand without becoming hooked on the folds of my jockey’s fly.
As we danced, she swayed slightly from side to side just to let me know that she knew what the state of my eager manhood was in. Meanwhile, a slid my hand down to her back and, when I was sure no one could see, I placed my hands on her sweet ass cheeks and gave them a rub and lusty squeeze. She seemed to enjoy my forwardness because she held onto me even more tightly. I swear I could detect the odour of her steaming honey pot even in the middle of a crowded dance floor.
I kissed her on the neck and nibbled her ear. I discovered that they were erogenous zones. She moaned softly and shivered as my lips nibbled her neck. Soon she was pant. the sparkle in her eyes seemed to have become brighter. She was definitely hot to trot. I seemed to be on the road to, no not redemption, but rather the sinful pleasure of fornication.
We returned to our table where we had another wine. I put my hand back on her bare thigh. She repaid me by rubbing the bulge in my pants. Fortunately, that activity was taking place under the table where no one could see.
I was getting excited. I was anxious to leave. “Shall we go?” I suggested.
“Yes, let’s,” she replied without any hesitation. She was excited as I was.
If we had not been in the bar, I think we would have already been humping away like rutting rabbits.
* * *
I was all nerves when we reached our room. I fumbled with key card and had to make a couple of attempts to open the door.
Claire watched me make a clumsy fool of myself but said, “Better you than me,” she said with a smile that was almost shy. That made me feel better. She indirectly just confessed to being nervous too.
“You don’t mind if I take a shower, do you?”
‘Hell, no!’ I thought. I nodded.
As she casually removed her clothing, she made a full turn so that I could behold all her feminine treasures. She was displaying herself to me. I was in awe. So was my cock.
“The shower is big enough for two. Perhaps you’ll join me?” she asked coyly.
‘Hell, yes!’ I thought. I nodded again.
Despite her age, she was an exceptionally beautiful woman. I was beginning to think that maybe I was in the middle of an extraordinary vivid wet dream. I almost prayed to god not to wake me up too early.
I flung off my clothes like Superman in a telephone booth and stepped into the shower with her. My cock took no notice of social niceties and was sending an obvious message: He was a clear and present danger to her.
“Oh, lookie here,” she teased, “your friend is here too,” she said pointing at the throbbing organ between my legs. She gazed at my turgid organ and smiled. “I don’t know if there’s enough room for all three of us. It might get a little tight in the shower.”
My cock pulsed in continued admiration of her femaleness.
“You like tight, do you?” she asked addressing my dick. Be patient,” she admonished, putting her hand on my rigid cock.” She squatted down and swallowed my fleshy weapon like professional sword swallower and then gave it one grand suck.
“Oh shit!” I yelled. “You’ll make me cum if you do that again!”
Fortunately, she stopped because if she had continued, I would have blown my load down her throat in an instant and then I would have been mortified. I wasn’t a teenager any more. I wanted to prove I was a good long-lasting lover. I wanted her to have her satisfaction too. I’m not selfish.
We took turns washing each other. I washed her chest and their lovely little mounds from behind her back. As my soapy hands moved up and down the front of her body, my cock nestled against the crack dividing her ass cheeks. I pressed myself against her so that she would know what was in store. As if she hadn’t figured that out already! Yes, it was tight in the shower but I was somehow sure she would be tight too.
Claire knew how to play the game too. She pressed her ass against my raging erection and wiggled her ass. I felt the overwhelming urge take her and pound her right then and there. Then I remembered that most accidents in the home, and presumedly in a hotel, happen in the bathroom. Water can be quite slippery in a shower and even more so in a tub. This shower was in a tub. The last thing I wanted was to have an accident and totally ruin a lusty weekend with this hot babe. So I stopped teasing her with my bludgeon and carefully stepped out of tub and the shower. We did not bother to dress.
As I dried off, she too stepped out of the shower. I handed her a fresh towel. She handed it back to me. As I dried her, I sniffed to draw her fresh scent up my nostrils. She laughed as I rubbed my nose against her soft sin and tasted her with the tip of my tongue. She shivered as she knew that my lust for her was very strong.
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