Meeting an elderly lady

It's already May 20, 2017, warm summer is approaching, but spring, despite the occasional cold, managed to bring joy..

I write, simultaneously savoring in my head what happened, and sometimes I shudder — because deciding on something like this… was not easy and required a lot of willpower..

And here's — what exactly… roughly n days ago, spring finally took its course, but… peers, as well as younger girls, didn't particularly attract me (too mundane) — peers are a kind of pop music in show business… and besides physical pleasure, they can only *morally* rape your brain… which they take pride in.

A different matter

— mature adult ladies — because even approaching to get acquainted — already requires determination, excitement, internal images and thoughts, fantasies…

And so it was this time — I went out early in the morning and went to another part of the city.

After walking through courtyards, stores (mainly Krasnoe i Beloe), I remained quite disappointed — despite the sunny day, I didn't see any suitable women by age… except for a full, I'd even say very full woman around 50–55 sitting on a bench in the courtyard smoking. She was dressed in a dark dress that should supposedly be slimming, but… it was useless — she must have been about 130–140 kilograms.

Deciding that an attempt is not torture, after going into a store and buying an ice cream, I approached her, asking

— "Is this seat taken?"

— "No, sit down" — despite the fact that she was sitting in the middle of the bench and there was enough room for me, she moved over, looking me over — though without any particular intent.

— "Yeah… it's warm today" — stretching, I remarked and somehow tried to start a conversation

— "Yeah, it's spring already… they promise real heat and warming in a week" — she amiably entered into a dialogue with me.

It's like I'm constantly replaying such acquaintances in my head — there (in my head, that is) the answer is always ready… but here — it wasn't coming. But it seemed she herself was interested in chatting.

— "Came out to warm up too?" — her turn for initiative,

— "Well, just walking, it's nice outside" — trying to adopt her manner of using the informal 'you' — "I'm Sasha, by the way"

— "Nastya" — she answered quite briefly because she was smoking.

— "Can I use 'you' (informal)?"

— "Well, you can use 'you' (formal), how old are you?" — she finished her cigarette, threw it away, and taking a bottle of water from her purse, took a sip.

— "I'm 24… and you… well, you"

— "Well, you can use 'you' (informal), if it doesn't bother you, I'm 56" — she laughed seeing me clumsily switching between informal and formal 'you'.

— "Whoa… " — I really didn't expect that, thought she was younger, and just looked older..

— "What's wrong? Old?" — she demonstratively looked me over.

— "No, just right" — I smiled and tried to be pleasant — "Just thought you were around 40"

— "Just right for what?" — she was already smiling fully, even though she was fat, spring had done its thing and it was clear she enjoyed the attention of a young guy.

— "Um… for getting acquainted" — I exhaled

— "Aren't you a bit too young yourself, for getting acquainted?" — a smile in her voice mixed with a slight mockery

— "Well… depends on what YOU think" — I was no longer flustered.

— "Oh my, there it is, the modern youth… shifting all responsibility onto the woman " — she feigned a sigh.

— "Not shifting, just clarifying… in case I'm still too little" — it almost slipped out — like too young, but she could have taken it as a hint that she's old.

— "Age is just a number" — after thinking she added — "And I'm a free woman, and I see nothing wrong with getting acquainted"

— "Sasha" — I introduced myself again, spacing out

— "Nastya… Anastasia Alekseevna" — she laughed — "Are you just going to keep introducing yourself?"

— "Let's go with Nastya" — I took out the ice cream, which caused another smirk — "Want some?"

— "Oh my god, what kind of men have we got now, treating with ice cream, at least you're not giving away your last one?" — she unwrapped it and, slightly rounding her lips, quickly licked off the melted top of the ice cream in the cup — "hmm… not bad, I love good ice cream"

— "Well… I treat with what I can" — gaining courage, I reached out and wiped a trace of ice cream from the corner of her lips and was satisfied — she smiled with her full lips and leaned in to make it easier to wipe.

— "Want a try?" — she herself handed me my cup, and I leaned in and took a bite, trying to leave a trace as well — I was curious what she would do.

She repeated the same procedure, smiling, and after finishing the ice cream remarked

— "You should come to women with flowers, candy, and champagne, not with ice cream" — she flicked me on the nose

— "Well… it was all improvisation, give me a chance and I'll come with a gentleman's set"

— "Let's see how independent you are " — she took her phone out of her purse, and pressing the buttons with her thick fingers found the contact *Me* — "Write it down"

— "It's hot… time to go home, will you at least make it by nine or ten… gentleman?" — she stood up, from which I saw how full she was — a roll of belly, huge breasts, a double chin, and thick sausage-like fingers… but spring is spring.

— "Of course I'll make it… uh… where to"

— "Third entrance, apartment 187, ring the intercom" — taking her purse she looked at me and then smiling, ruffled my hair — "Until evening"

Evening… evening evening evening… I could have not waited until evening, but… since she specified the time, I quickly ran to the store, buying champagne… and then another bottle of wine, gift candy, condoms, and went home.

Time dragged slowly, but after getting overly nervous I passed out, woke up to the beep of the alarm — it was already nine… I was late.

187… The intercom blinking… and the door opened without questions — who, and to whom.

Going up to the 3rd floor, I didn't have time to adjust the bouquet of flowers before the door opened.

— "Well now… I'm waiting for him, and he's late" — a bit reproachfully, but there was joy in her voice that I had come after all

— "My fault… I'll make it up" — I stepped inside — inside it was semi-dark, only a nightlight was on in the room — with subdued light and barely, barely giving a faint reflection.

— "Of course you'll make it up" — her tone seemed playful — "Is this for me?"

— "Yes, Nastya, as an apartment decoration, though you already decorate it" — a peculiar compliment but it seemed to work, and hearing the click of heels (?) — she came closer and I examined her — a classic whore-style look. Black sweater-dress top, which doesn't hide her fullness, no less full legs, in tights or stockings with a large mesh, a skirt as black as the sweater, and platform heels — from which she was half a head taller than me, and a pleasant perfume scent..

— "Wow… you look amazing" — I really was a bit flustered and handed over the bouquet.

— "You bet!" — she exclaimed perkily — "Not bad for an old lady, huh"

— "You're not an old lady, age is just a number, right" — I unzipped my jacket, took off my shoes, and followed her.

A long hallway, a room, two candles in the middle of a table standing in front of the sofa, and semi-darkness — from shyness, to hide the fullness or for romance?… I didn't imagine, but it wasn't particularly important.

— "This is for you too" — I said and put the bottle of wine and champagne on the table.

— "Not for you but for uuus " — the flowers were placed in a vase and two glasses stood on the table — "Or will you refuse to drink with a lady?"

— "No, of course not, but the candy is definitely for you" — I handed over the set which she immediately opened and put on the table and grabbing the wine bottle began to open it.

— "Sit down, come on, I'll do everything myself" — with these words she pulled the cork from the bottle, and I sat down on the sofa and felt, as if by accident, her pressing against me — while pouring a glass.

— "And you look magnificent" — I couldn't help but notice — though inside me desire and incomprehension fought — how can one let themselves go like that.

— "You bet… beauty requires sacrifice" — after pouring a glass she set the bottle aside and sat down next to me — "Well, to our acquaintance?"

The first toast was said by her and we successfully drank to it.

— " And big sacrifices require?" — now I tried to lead the dialogue and poured half a glass for both myself and Nastya

— "Big ones… " — she sighed capriciously and lifted her plump leg covered in mesh — "Haven't walked in heels for a long time already, my legs are tired"

— "Poor thing" — I obediently accepted the game and boldly ran my hand along her leg from knee to calf and ankle — "So maybe it's easier to take them off?"

— "Later, I like being in them" — she stood up and took a couple of steps back and forth and stood in front of me — "And men seem to like women in heels, right?"

— "They do… " — extending my hand I again ran it along her leg, feeling my palm slide over the rough mesh — "they suit your tights"

Snorting contentedly, she leaned over and took the glass of wine — "These aren't tights"

Obediently, I also picked up my glass — remaining seated, so that on her heels — my gaze was level with her stomach which tightly hugged her top — "To female beauty?"

Instead of an answer, she downed the glass in one gulp and set it aside — "They're stockings, really couldn't tell?"

— "Yeah, I could tell… was just clarifying" — I tried to make her smile, which I succeeded in.

— "See what kind" — she pulled the edges of her skirt up on the sides — along her thick thighs, until the edge of the stockings showed — a rubber layer — which was like an elastic band — squeezing and not letting the stockings slide down — "Pretty?"

I ran my hand from ankle to knee and higher, stroking, from which Anastasia Alekseevna contentedly squinted — "Oh… that feels good" — and put her foot on the sofa next to me — "I love it when men's hands stroke my legs…"

It was no longer time for wine, and with my hands I was stroking her legs — feeling her standing in front of me and leaning her hands on my shoulders, once and again — my hand reached the edge of the stockings.

— "Well, you've stroked it all… pour the Lady some more wine" — she purred and sat down next to me.

— "To every man knowing how to please a girl" — we clinked glasses and another half glass spread pleasant warmth, just as a pleasant heaviness spread on my shoulder — she put her hand on it, and turning my head I ran into her oily gaze, full thick lips painted with bright lipstick.

Making up my mind, I lightly pecked her lips with mine, and immediately she herself took the initiative, pressing me and sealing my mouth with a kiss.

— "Well now, and you were all tense, shy… if you want to kiss a woman then kiss… if you see lips nearby then kiss… remember" — she giggled — "if you're not embarrassed to kiss an old lady, of course"

— "I said you're not an old lady… you look amazing " — pulling her by the hand I made her stand up and turn around — "great legs, a woman's figure, little heels" — with these words I lowered my hand and stroked her ankles and shoes — "stockings" — after these words, my hand slid up to her knee — and higher and Nastya obediently lifted her skirt so that the edges of the stockings were visible.

— "I guess you'll stop at the stockings?" — she already asked cunning