0 comments/ 71942 views/ 2 favorites Tahitian Nights By: BTH2406 Dave Bishop began his amorous adventures with older women when he met Brenda. He now advertises for others. This story is Dave doing his mature best, but this time in Tahiti. ***** Hello, I’m Dave Bishop. In a recent story I explained about a situation where my friend Ken allowed me to watch him with a beautiful older woman, Brenda, in the office of his liquor store. It was after this that I got the idea to advertise and see if I could meet more women in the older age bracket. You may want to read this story (It Pays to Advertise) to get an appreciation of how much I like older women? I have still to write up what happened to the other two women who replied to my ad. I have seen Brenda since then and she was just as good as she was the first time… unbelievable in fact. ++++++++++++++ Let me explain what I do for a living: In my line of work I get to see some of the world’s most beautiful tourist destinations… and I don’t have to spend one cent of my own money doing it. Some people would say “Great life if you can get it,” but the thing that makes it really hard is that every one of these fantastic places I go to is for the purpose of working. Well, most of the time anyway. I work for a company involved in prospecting for oil and gas. My ‘territory’ covers an enormous area known as ‘the Pacific Basin’ by the firm that employs me. The area I physically have to travel stretches in a rectangle from the West Coast of the United States in the east of the Pacific, right across to Japan in the West. The furthest south western part of the territory goes as far south as Malaysia and Indonesia, then on to Australia and New Zealand. The furthest in the south eastern corner of the rectangle, is Tahiti in French Polynesia. These places, plus everything in between, are my ‘stomping ground’. More often than not I base myself either in Sydney, Australia or Auckland, New Zealand. They’re both exciting places to live with good weather most of the time. It doesn’t do any harm that they are also renowned for beautiful beaches and a bevy of great looking women. To be honest, I don’t spend too much of my time in any one place, so I have got used to feeling reasonably comfortable wherever I’m staying. Within hours of landing in a new place I can normally put down my temporary roots and feel at home. After I’ve unpacked my suitcase, had a shower and taken a drive in the inevitable Avis rental car, the places I work in seem very similar. Of course the travel agents, and tourist advertising in general, will never say this, but if you’re in beautiful places primarily to work, then they do tend to often look, or ‘feel’, alike. The language or accents may often differ, but the ‘places’ feel the same if you’re alone and working. Staying in good hotels is a pre-requisite in my job. I imagine that some people would maybe think that I do this so I can simply tell other people I do it. This isn’t true at all, the real reason for the good hotel rule is simple, I work hard, I play hard, and I need somewhere where I feel safe to live when I’m not working and work when I’m not living… if you know what I mean? I obviously want the comforts of home and ease of communication with my company; this means using any and all forms of modern technology, and you simply don’t get all of this at the el cheapo hotels, it’s a fact! The good thing about staying in five-star hotels is that you often get to meet some nice people. True, you also get to meet some real all-singing, all-dancing, assholes as well. Some people seem to be under the impression that being rich, or even ‘well-off’ in more realistic terms for many people, is a license to be a pain-in-the-neck to the hotel employees and locals in general. I’ll never know why this is? It’s funny that they’re often the noisy ones in a bar or the ones that complain about the wine or whatever at dinner… Providing they are loud and everyone knows it’s them that is important enough to make all the noise in the first place. Leaving the assholes to one side for a moment, I’ll make a few observations about the ‘nice people’ that are out there. Unfortunately, for me, many of the people I have had the pleasure of meeting on my travels are happily married and as straight as a die. When I say unfortunately I mean that a single horny man would definitely like to meet some of the women from these couples… from time-to-time at least. However, straight, single, females don’t often travel alone, and I must admit that this is probably the most sensible thing to do in many of the Pacific islands. If a European woman was seen on her own in many of the places I travel to they might as well have a yellow flashing light attached to their head saying to the locals… “Hello, I’m here! Come and get me.” It’s a real shame for the women, but I know what I’m saying is true. There are many single gay males traveling or living in the islands that would be perfectly happy to share my evenings; but that is the last thing I want, or need. Everyone to his or her own and mine are normally female, and if possible older than myself. I’m 44, fit, reasonable to look at and I have a thing about older women. So, to recap, when I’m traveling I’m often looking for an eligible woman to have dinner with, and possibly more if the circumstances are right for both of us. As I have already mentioned, the final part to my ideal situation is that I prefer the woman to be older. Not so old that she has a walking frame, you understand, but old enough so that there is a high likelihood of experience within. Let’s say late forties to early sixties to put a more accurate guideline on the specification. In my most recent travels I’ve had a brief liaison in Suva, Fiji with a woman from the Australian High Commission; then a similar fling with an Air New Zealand hostess while working in Tokyo, but nothing at all worth writing home about. The time I spent with Brenda in New Zealand, as I explained in my last story, was one out of the box, so to speak! Please don’t get me wrong, I don’t actually go to these various places and sit around panting and acting like a dog hunting a bitch in heat, but I do admit to keeping a wary eye on the available ‘talent’. My next job is in Tahiti, so maybe my luck might change? ++++++++++ I was given the hurried details of the new job, together with a dossier on the technical data, before I left my Auckland office. It sounded like it was going to take me about a week, maybe ten days - tops. A Japanese firm was negotiating to drill for oil off shore from one of the islands in French Polynesia. The local government officials had asked if my company could supply an independent consultant to review the Japanese data. I was to meet with both parties on Monday at 8.00am in their downtown office in Papeete, the capital of Tahiti. +++++++++ I arrived in Papeete, on Sunday evening at 6.00pm, local time. The 747-400 made a reasonably good landing in the swirling winds that were buffeting the area. Although the temperature was warm, the rain was really lashing across the runway. Just as it went horizontal the hostess decided this was the best time for the passengers to descend the steep steps that had been wheeled up to the side of the plane as it came to a halt. I was soaked to the skin before I got to the terminal building; rain was running off my clothes as though I’d taken a shower fully dressed. After clearing customs I went straight to the Avis desk and hired the only car they had left, a left hand drive UK mini clubman, it was at least thirty something years old, complete with a variety of rust spots and fading grey paint. There was even a hole in the driver’s door that I could get my fist into. They didn’t say that this was the air conditioning, but it wouldn’t have surprised me. This car had definitely seen better times. Then, just to make my day, as I was driving to the hotel, a large cockroach ran up the right leg of my trousers and almost got me killed. I spent what seemed like five minutes beating the hell out of my leg until I got a warm squishy feeling running down the back of my calf. I had arrived in yet another tropical paradise. +++++++++ The hotel was something else. I had not stayed in this particular hotel before, so the odd sensation when I used the elevator was certainly different. The hotel was said to be the best in Papeete. It clung precariously to a hillside overlooking the ocean. I could see the twinkling lights of Club Med on an island close to the shore. It wasn’t easy to see the lights as a mist appeared when the rain squall went out to sea. The sun did come back for a few minutes before finally leaving again over the horizon; I then knew why I often loved the places I went to in my job. The sky was alive, as though an unseen hand had struck a match and set fire to the furthest clouds. Another ten minutes and the colour of the sky would change from a dull red glow to a soft blue as the moon came up and bathed everything in a milky white light. The cockroach aside, I was pleased to be in Tahiti again, this certainly was a magnificent place to spend some time… working or not. When I checked in at reception, at street level, I was told that I would be on the 8th floor. As I hit the number 8 on the wall I was taken completely by surprise as the elevator began to descend. The fifteen floors of the hotel, including the ground floor, at street level, all went down the hill. There was no building above street level, it was all below. I thought, “Well this is something different, and a lot better than the cockroach episode.” After I unpacked my bag I had a shower and a shave then lay down for a half hour to see if I could get rid of the fuzziness in my head. The long flight from Auckland had been tiring, especially with having to get to the airport so early for security checks. Two hours later I woke up, slightly confused and hungry. I have what I think are some sensible habits on planes; I try not to sway from them too often. I only eat every other meal that is on offer and I only drink a maximum of two drinks during a flight, no matter the distance. If you over-indulge in either of these you will feel like shit at the other end of your journey. Travel for a living and find out. I had been given a mobile phone number as my contact in the French Polynesian local government office. When I phoned the number at 8.45pm the reply I got was a female voice answering in a clipped soft French accent, “Allo, Oui? Madam Voiret.” “Hello Madam Voiret, this is Dave Bishop from Consolidated Oil and Gas. I was told to make contact with you when I arrived this evening.” “Ah, yes, Mr Bishop. Welcome to Tahiti. I was expecting you; I hope you had a good journey? I answered, “Yes thank you, Madam, it was a good flight, and, apart from the rain when we landed everything else was fine.” “Please Mr Bishop, call me Vivian. We do not stand on too much ceremony here in Tahiti. Tell me, have you eaten?” “No, I haven’t, would you care to join me for a late supper?” She said, “Yes that would be nice, what about I meet you at your hotel? They have a good restaurant and it will mean you do not have to drive anywhere.” “That sounds great. How long will it take you to get here?” “Oh, maybe twenty minutes maximum,” she said, “So, I’ll meet you in the lobby at say 9.15pm, yes?” “Yes, that will be fine. I’ll see you then, à bientôt Madam.” I thought to myself, “I wonder what Madam Vivian Voiret is like? Does the ‘Madam’ signify that she is now married? Does it mean she has been married and is not now married? Or does it mean nothing and you are just being a horny Dave as usual?” I got dressed, went down to the hotel reception and told them that when Madam Voiret arrived I could be found in the house-bar. I was thirsty after taking on air conditioned air for hours on the plane and then in my room as I slept. I ordered an ice cold draft beer from the beautiful Tahitian woman behind the counter and waited for the arrival of my French contact. +++++++++ Someone behind me was saying, “Monsieur Bishop?” I came to my senses and turned to see who had broken my train of thought. I had been staring intently at the girl behind the bar. She was dressed with coconut shells in place of a bra, a wonderful tan and jet-black hair. She had distracted me to the max. “Yes,” I said, looking at her, a little embarrassed at being miles away. The girl looked puzzled, and I then looked beyond the girl to the corner of the bar and said, “Ah, Madam Voiret, I’m sorry… Vivian?” “Yes, that’s right,” she said as her hand moved out with an offer to shake my own hand. “I’m pleased to meet you Monsieur Bishop.” I smiled at the most strikingly beautiful woman I had seen in a long time. “I will call you Vivian, but only if you will call me Dave… Is that a deal? Monsieur Bishop sounds so formal.” “OK, Dave. It is a deal, as you say.” Our handshake was brief, but her touch sent a sensation up my arm that was hard to describe. The way she was dressed was simple, yet it showed that she was all woman below her light silk dress. As I offered her a seat next to me at the bar, she seemed to glide the few steps, then float onto the tall bar stool. As she was taking her seat I tried to quickly assess this woman before me. It was hard to tell her age, her skin was an olive colour; it seemed flawless in the soft light of the bar. I tried to guess her age, but she must have been anywhere from my own age upwards. I was to find out later in the evening that she was 61; and the most youthful looking 61 year old, male or female, that I had ever seen. It turned out that Vivian was a qualified practicing lawyer, specializing in business law. She worked on sub-contract to the local government office in Papeete, and she had been selected for the job from a long list of equally qualified people, all of whom were originally from Paris. The selection of all Parisians was not unusual, it seems that from Paris to Tahiti, even though it is almost on opposite sides of the planet, is classified as a ‘local’ flight for French nationals traveling on Air France. Most of the French Polynesian judiciary is from Paris, as were most of the other professions represented in these islands. It didn’t take long for us to be talking like old friends. I had just finished my cold beer when she arrived in the hotel, so we both agreed to a bottle of chilled good French Sauvignon Blanc. As we began to taste the first glass, the waiter advised us that our table was ready. We decided to go straight to the table and the waiter brought the glasses and the bottle, held in a bucket of ice shavings, to the table. The table was adjacent to a small wall that surrounded the dining room and overlooked the ocean. The scene was like something from a movie set. The moon laid a glittering white track across the ocean from the horizon. Around the hotel exterior was now dark, but bathed in the glow from the restaurant lighting. The rain I had seen a few hours earlier seemed to have disappeared, maybe for the rest of the time I was to reside in Tahiti. Moments after we sat at our table a harsh slow drumming began somewhere in the hotel grounds, from the volume it was quite close by. The people in the dining room, especially the tourists, peered beyond the small surrounding wall to see what was about to happen. It got faster as the time went by, Vivian and I looked at one another, and it became obvious that she knew what was going to happen, but she wanted me to see it without her trying to explain above the noise of the drums. Lighter, higher pitched drumming began, above the slow beat of the base level drum. As this worked its way up to a crescendo a line of absolutely beautiful girls began to appear from the direction of the palm tree entrance to the dining room. They all looked to be about the same height and the same age, maybe somewhere around nineteen or twenty. They were all dressed in the traditional hula skirt made from the long flax based grainy grass. Like the girl behind the bar, all of the dancers had two coconut halves held by a thin rope tie in place of a bra. This was the extent of their clothing. A couple of them had grass bracelets around their ankles, plaited with coloured strands of wool. Their hips swayed hypnotically as they made their way to an area that was obviously a designated stage. There were coloured light creating a hint of mystery on the stage set. The drums then stopped abruptly and the girls formed two lines of five across the stage. Just as suddenly as they had stopped, the drums began to beat again, this time with a greater urgency. The ten dancers gave a display of Tahitian dancing that can only be described as magical. Their skills were far better than anything I’d seen when working in Honolulu. This was obviously the real McCoy. They all had a light sheen of moisture from their neck to the waistband of their skirts when the drums finally stopped again. Applause rang out from the diners and the people at the bar as the dancers made their way back into the darkness beyond the palm trees again. Minutes later six of the dancers came back into the darkened area of the stage and the drums set to work once more. The skirts were swaying as they began to be picked out by spot lights being operated from offstage. As the lights went from being spot lights to flood lights, the light went from bright white to a soft shade of blue. It was obvious immediately the lights went above the waistband that the girls had removed their coconut shells and had not replaced them with anything. I looked sideways at Vivian and she smiled in what I thought was rather a shy way, then I turned back to feast my eyes on the spectacle before me. The small well rounded breasts bouncing up and down with the rhythm and the sharp, then soft movements of the dancer’s feet. What seemed like two minutes later, but was probably closer to five or six minutes, the girls left the stage, to be replaced by a man that looked like Arnold Swartzennegger twirling large bamboo poles that were on fire at both ends. He gave an excellent show of juggling and left the same way as the girls. The floor show lasted another fifteen minutes and in the applause that followed, the waiters and waitresses began to serve dinner once more. “Well, that was fantastic,” I said to Vivian. “Yes I know, they are very good, and I did not want to spoil the show for you by trying to explain everything before it happened. I thought it better that you see for yourself and make up your own mind about how good or bad it was.” We ate for a few moments in silence after our food was brought to the table. I could not help but reflect on the magnificent bodies on the dancers. ++++++++ Apart from obviously being a very intelligent woman, with numerous talents in a business sense, Vivian was also interested in physical fitness. She explained that she trained in a local gymnasium every afternoon from midday until two, “While all of my friends and colleagues are either taking a siesta or are enjoying the island-time lunch.” She went on to say that she had tried, but could not get used to the totally relaxed behaviour that her colleagues had found so easy to slip into when they arrived from France or New Caledonia. “Some of them have put on 10 or 15 kgs in their first year here in Papeete. They look so unhealthy.” Her French accent left out the ‘h’ in ‘unhealthy’, as well as many other words in our conversation. The accent fascinated me. She smiled with her last words and said, “Oh, I’m sorry to go on Dave, it is obviously of no interest to you that people I know let themselves go.” Tahitian Nights “Vivian, there is no doubt in my mind that you have not let yourself go… not one iota.” Vivian flushed slightly and covered up her shyness by asking me what I would like to have for dessert, and that it would probably be better if she did the ordering again as many of the waiters did not speak English. The complete menu was in French, without any benefit of translation so I didn’t stand a dog’s chance of eating exactly what I wanted without her. During the meal we got to know one another much better. The conversation never seemed boring and the pauses in conversation were not because we didn’t have anything further to say, they always seemed to be just a comfortable lull while we allowed ourselves to think about what one or the other had said, either in an answer or a question. Vivian had been married. Her husband had been a prominent lawyer in Paris until weeks before he died from cancer. He had died three years ago and Vivian had done what many before her had done in similar circumstances, she buried herself in her work; finally deciding to apply for the job in Tahiti as a lifestyle change from the grey skies of Paris. She found that she liked the lifestyle change so much that it made her think more about her appearance and her health in general. She hadn’t become a ‘health-nut’ but she had become healthier, slimmer and fitter as a result of her regime since coming to the islands. She informed Dave that she now had a better figure than when she was 39. “I have a figure of,” she thought for a moment, to change the measurement from centimeters to inches, and then said, “Yes, I have the calculation: I am 38 by 27 by 37. How do you say, not bad for an older woman?” She laughed in a way that had me laughing as well a few seconds later. “Well, I don’t have any comment ever about age Vivian, I just know that you have a beautiful figure; the number of inches or centimeters are not important to me.” As I said this, there was another flush of the skin around her cheeks and she looked out toward the ocean. I was about to ask her if she wanted to join me for a nightcap in my room when she looked at me again and said, “Dave, I have really enjoyed myself this evening, probably the best time I have had since I arrived in Tahiti early last year. However, I must leave you now; we have a meeting planned for 8.00am in the morning in the government buildings in the city. If I keep you up late and we oversleep as a result, I could lose my job. The Japanese are really pushing to get the exploration underway and only the very best business service will do for them. I hope you don’t mind?” I said, “No, of course not Vivian. You are right to remind me.” Although disappointed I had to admit that work is why we are here, so that must come first. I signed the bill for dinner, and then walked her to the hotel car park. “I look forward to seeing you in the morning Vivian. Perhaps we can have dinner again tomorrow evening?” “Yes, I would like that. This time we will go to my favourite restaurant and it will be my turn to take you out to dinner.” “Madam Voiret… You have a deal!” ++++++++ The following day was a long hard slog. The work was painstaking in the detail required. What made it harder was that the Japanese interpreter was translating from Japanese into English (primarily for me), then Vivian was interpreting the English into French – then doing the reverse translation from the French to English, then it was translated into Japanese as the French Polynesian politicians had their say. By 6.00pm that evening we called it a day. Progress, surprisingly enough had been made, with the Japanese presentation so well prepared that it made my own job so much easier. I felt great about the way the day had gone and I said this to Vivian as we left the building together. “I have about one hour of phone calls to make to my various offices to bring them up to speed, so perhaps we could meet for a drink before dinner somewhere?” “Yes, that would be good… my throat feels as though it needs soothing after all of the talking today.” My ‘Horny-Dave’ persona instantly rose to the surface and I thought, “I know what I could place in your throat to help you to sooth it.” However, what I actually said was, “Vivian, I noticed last night that there was a beautiful 1996 Grenache from the Barossa Valley, in South Australia, on the wine list. This will cure all of your concerns about your throat. What say we begin with that then go on to this favourite restaurant of yours?” “Dave, that sounds wonderful. I will meet you at a table in the bar, by the ocean side wall. How does this sound?” “Great, I’ll see you them” ++++++++ As Vivian walked into the bar I was absolutely stunned by the way she looked. The evening before she had worn a loose silk shift dress, it looked fantastic, but it left the shape of her body to the imagination most of the time. Occasionally she would move into a position where the lines below the silk shift were clearly defined. As the nipples moved against the material it became quite obvious where they were, and as the evening became cooler they stood out more prominently. The dress that Vivian had on this evening could not have been any more opposite if she had tried for days on the visual effect. My mouth must have been still open as she came to the table and I stood to welcome her. Her face beamed with a huge smile as she realised that I was pleased with her appearance. “I take it that you approve Dave?” “You could say that Vivian. Yes, I definitely approve.” The dress was literally skin tight, but somehow the material was such that it allowed her to move freely. This dress must have cost her a fortune; it was probably from one of the Paris fashion houses and would not have looked out of place on any of the well-known models that they employ. The colour began with a midnight blue from the top, and then, as it went down her body, it changed through a rainbow of increasingly lighter blues until it finished just above her shoe-line in a shade of teal. I knew this colour well; it was the shading on the tale-plain of an Air New Zealand jet. Her breasts were accentuated by the way the material clung to their beautiful lines; and, it was obvious that she was not wearing a bra, or if she was it was it was not making any tell-tale lines on the dress. At her waist there was a simple white leather belt. It had a gold clasp that allowed the belt to be held, and then the remainder of the leather was twisted to create a swirling loop that went around the opposite side of the belt. She looked unbelievable. The other patrons of the bar were equally impressed, and there were men and women included in those that stared. When she sat beside me all I could say was, “How on earth can you look this gorgeous when I only left you just over an hour ago? You must have spent most of that time in the car. What’s the secret?” “Dave, I like you… a lot. I am quick to make up my mind about many things, and you are one of them. I did not want to waste too much time, so I change quickly and join you for this soothing Australian elixir made from the Grenache grapes.” She gave a grin that altered, and lit up, her face. It made her look like a cheeky schoolgirl. I had not seen this side of her in the short time I had known her. She had had on her business face all day, with me, the Japanese and her colleagues. It was obvious that this woman wanted to play this evening. My brain started to do cart-wheels at the thought of this. What was I in for with this absolutely gorgeous looking woman… perhaps something really special, who knows? Vivian’s favourite restaurant turned out to serve Chinese food. Only the French can make a Chinese restaurant seem like anything other than a Chinese restaurant. The food, the service and everything about the meal was superb. The waiters and waitresses were French Vietnamese and did not speak a word of English. In fact looking around me and listening, I think I was the only English speaking person in the restaurant. It obviously had a great reputation; it was full to the doors, and most, if not all, were locals! As time passed our conversation became more and more intimate. It seemed only natural later in the evening that I invite her back to my hotel for the nightcap that I had been thinking about offering the evening before. The invitation was accepted. It was good that the last thing that Vivian had arranged before our business meeting closed at 6.00pm was to organise a mid-day start the following day. As far as anyone else was concerned this was to give me time to read the geological survey information the Japanese had provided during their presentation. The fact that I had read this same information on the plane coming over to Tahiti was a bonus. It allowed us to put all of our available time between now and mid-day tomorrow to better use. As we left the restaurant there were more than a few stares from the people left dining. There was no way they were staring at me; it was all reserved for the stunning female on my arm. When we got back to the hotel, I opened the door to my room and, taking Vivian’s hand, I pointed her toward the inside of what was the lounge… I’m glad that it was only a few steps from the bedroom. The curtains were open and the moonlight steamed in and gave us enough light to see by quite clearly. As I closed the door I flicked the ‘do-not-disturb’ sign to the outer handle; chain-locked the door and welcomed the silence. Vivian turned around as though on tip-toes, removed the white leather belt and tossed it onto the shelf above the refrigerator. I looked on, saying nothing… just fascinated by this beautiful woman, watching her undress and slowly reveal her body. The fact that she was seventeen years older than me didn’t even enter my head. If I had thought about it seriously, that thought would have got transferred down to my rising cock immediately. It was now working in automatic mode. The blood that was flooding into it was making me light-headed and I wondered how long it would be before the tent that was forming in my trousers would begin to squash my cock and make me lose my concentration. I decided to pre-empt this situation so I slid down the zipper on my trousers and drop them to the carpet below. The only problem was that the tent seemed to get even bigger; only this time it was in my black silk boxers and they had no show of holding it in check. My cock was beginning to feel about the size of giant salami; the skin was being stretched to busting point. The pre-cum was dribbling freely and I was in need of release at the hands, mouth or pussy of an experienced woman. As I watched Vivian she dropped the shoulder straps of her dress, and then slowly pulled it over the front of her tits. The material seemed to cling to the slopes as though there was static holding it onto the skin. My guess earlier that she was not wearing an bra proved to be correct; underneath her dress she had two of the most naturally beautiful shaped tits I think I have ever seen. I’m never sure what the different sizes of bra mean; when people refer to ‘DD’ this and ‘B’ that; I just know when the tits I’m looking at are beautiful. These were just that, beautiful! The pink tipped nipples were sitting in dark areola, against her olive tan skin. Vivian looked incredibly sexy… it felt like a few more pints of blood had been dumped into the flagpole that had now taken up residence in my underwear. I knew that the pre-cum I felt earlier was forming into a large wet patch at the front of my newly acquired black tent. Vivian was obviously a fan of nude sunbathing because there was definitely no tan line anywhere to be seen above her waist. As the designer dress slipped easily down her body to the floor it revealed a pair of black panties that were missing the complete crotch. I had heard of these before, obviously, but this was the first time that I’d actually seen anyone wearing them. I don’t even recall ever seeing them in any porno movies that I’d watched over the years. They were actually a cross between a thong and a pair of crotchless panties if I tried to be more specific in my description… If seen from the rear there was a narrow piece of material going from the waistband into the crack of her buttocks; then this piece of material split into two and eventually became one again just above her pussy. I thought “Whoever thought up this style of underwear should be given the Pierre Cardin award to sexualité.” The effect of the dress swishing down to the floor and then seeing the well-trimmed Blonde and silver haired pussy starkly visible from the gap in the black panties was something I’ll never forget. It was wonderful. I could not wait to begin licking and sucking my way around this pussy presentation extraordinaire. I looked at Vivian’s face; enjoying the sparse amount of make-up that she used. She wasn’t attempting to hide anything; she just wanted to accentuate what was already there. Her short hair was a half way house between her original blonde hair and the grey hair that was taking its place. It was still luxuriously thick and made her face look quite angelic. While taking in the vision unfolding before me I kicked off my shoes and socks and flicked them over by the trousers; my shirt found the same pile a moment later. The fact that I almost fell on my ass while attempting this maneuver did not detract from the effect that the undressing was having on either of us. Vivian was now, to all intents and purposes naked. She was not wearing stockings and her shoes had been flicked to one side like my own. The black material surrounding her pussy was not what I classified as clothing; this was window dressing that was making my cock feel like a large chunk of granite. The harder it became the more it needed to be softened, perhaps by a method I’m sure alchemists have also used through the centuries. Even though the windows in the room were wide open the air remained warm. Making love with this lovely looking woman beneath a bed sheet was not an option… I wanted to see feel and hear everything that was about to happen with crystal clarity. This opportunity would not happen often in my life and I wanted to be firing on all cylinders when whatever was about to happen happened. As I moved toward Vivian, and closer to the bedroom, she placed her hands gently around my waist and clasped them into the small of my back, pulling me insistently into her. I put my arms around her at the shoulders and we locked in a kiss that literally took my breath away. Most kids talk about French kissing; I had always presumed that someone who was destined to be in marketing had dreamed up this name. The action where your tongue slides gracefully into the other person’s mouth and you slowly work like a couple of grass snakes is aptly named a French kiss… Vivian had obviously been listening to whoever had taught the lessons in her earlier life because she was absolutely bloody marvelous at it. Her tongue was licking my lips, and before I could say “that tickles” she had her tongue into my mouth and was making me feel like I could come without her touching me anywhere else. I thought that I had kissed some very talented women in my short time on this earth, but this one beat all of the previous ones into a cocked-hat. (No pun intended). She was sending signals to parts of my body that I didn’t know existed. I learned more about kissing in ten minutes from Vivian than I’d learned in the previous thirty years. I thought, “Dave, this has been an ignored part of your education!” When the kissing got to a stage where we were both moaning loudly, whether either of us cared to acknowledge it or not, my hands began to move around Vivian’s front. From this vantage point I was able to gently fondle her beautiful tits. I took hold of both nipples at once and squeezed them between my thumb and first finger, not so hard that it would hurt, that was completely counter-productive. From my limited experience I knew that the pressure on most women’s nipples had to be enough so that she could feel it above, or at least separate to, all the other sensations that were taking place at the same time. I had been told by a number of women that when the right kind of manipulation and the correct amount of pressure goes through the nipples a tingling sensation begins, sometimes around the throat – more often around the jaw, then it slowly moves down to the stomach area and on to the nerves that link with the clitoris. I think what I had been told was correct because the effect it was having on Vivian was the result I was after. The hands around my waist changed position slightly; the thumbs were stuck down the back of my boxers. The hands began a pulling - pushing motion, taking the boxers with them. Soon, the front of my boxers was pulling my engorged cock to an almost horizontal position, making it stick out at right-angles to where it was attached above my aching balls. Vivian quickly realised what was happening; her hands slipped from around the back to the front. She placed her fingers just above the waistband, and gently pulled out the boxers over the head of my throbbing cock. “Mon Dieu Dave… I’m sorry, the French gets in the way when I am excited. Good God, what a marvelous, marvelous cock. It is so big… so smooth, so dark.” Vivian let the boxers slide to the ground and encouraged me to step away from them. “I am so pleased that you have not had his hat removed, my husband was not like this. He was, how do you say – circumcised. I always felt as though there was something missing. I felt somehow cheated.” I laughed out loud at her explanation and took her head in my hands. The pressure I exerted upwards brought her into a standing position. She forced her body against mine and held on tight around my waist once more. I couldn’t help saying, “You are the best thing that has happened to me in a long time Vivian.” We began to kiss again as my cock lay rigid between our stomachs. My balls were sitting at the top of her crotchless panties and my cock was almost touching the under-side of her tits. The clear liquid was now making its way down the underneath of my cock, the warm and sticky feeling was now helping to heighten my senses. My cock slid around on her stomach as the liquid content increased. Even though Vivian was not as tall or as strong as me she slowly pushed me back toward the bedroom and as the back of my knees eventually made contact they buckled. I fell onto the bed… she kept a tight hold and fell onto the bed with me, as though she was a part of my body. As our kiss broke she said, almost out of breath “Dave, I want you to lick my pussy, while I make love to your beautiful big cock. Let us change position.” I had no intention of changing the request, it sounded like a fantastic idea. I remained still as she moved into a new position. When she had completed the move her head faced my feet and her feet faced my head. She spread her legs so that she was attempting to straddle my chest. This was not possible so she was literally kneeling on the sides of my chest. I thought, “It’s a good job she is so light…” then my mind said, “My God, or even ‘Mon Dieu!’, look at this magnificent view.” The gap in her panties framed the whole of her pussy and the puckered hole of her ass. I was mesmerized as I looked at the view. I then felt Vivian move her position again so that she was now holding onto the front of my thighs with her hands. She was sitting on me as though she was a champion jockey aboard her mount. It was a very exciting spectacle. Her right hand then left my thigh as she gained her balance with her left hand. She took a hold of my rock hard cock and began pulling it away from my stomach, moving it into the right angle position from my body again. The slivers of pre-cum made spiders web-like windows as she pulled it off my stomach. As soon as it was in the right position she lowered her head and placed her warm moist mouth over the head of my cock, pulling the ‘hat’ back that she had missed in love-making with her husband. Tahitian Nights I could feel that her mouth was too small to take the shaft in immediately. I knew that she would need time to wet it all over with saliva, then practice moving her head up and down until she got used to the size. I don’t profess to have the world’s biggest cock, but it is a long way above average. I would have to be patient and let Vivian get used to it without choking. The right hand went back onto my thigh as her mouth took over the job of exciting and wetting my cock by itself. I had saliva dribbling from my tongue as Vivian was ministering to my lower needs. I leaned forward and made a huge licking motion with my dripping wet tongue, starting at the hooded clitoris area of her pussy, then going slowly and deliberately all the way along her tight cunt lips right over to her asshole, sticking my tongue a little way into her puckered hole for good measure at the end of the stroke. She smelled and tasted wonderful. There was nothing nasty about the aroma; her woman smell was like an expensive musky perfume. It was so good I began at the clitoris and licked her again. The slurping noises were making me feel hornier by the second. She had obviously sprayed a little perfume above her pussy, but there was none on or around it. The only smell was the natural one and this was definitely driving me to distraction. As my tongue finished several journeys up and back, up and back, Vivian’s progress down my cock went faster and faster. Her grip of my thighs became more urgent. I could feel that she did not want to slip completely and have my pork sword go in up to the hilt before she was anywhere near ready for it. She knew she had to build up to this, so slowly, slowly catch the monkey. On my next licking attack along her beautiful crack I felt my cock dive deeper into her mouth, and then meet up with the obvious restriction of her throat. The lips on her mouth must now be stretching to the absolute maximum; I could feel them tight across the middle of my cock shaft. The blow job I was receiving was as good possible at this early stage of the proceedings, so patience and concentration was going to be a virtue. If I did not have patience and concentration it would be over quicker than either of us wanted. I pulled my head back from the area I was licking and got a good view of the way the grey and blonde hairs were trimmed just on top of her pubic bone, the pussy lips below were shaved bald. This had always excited me and every time I’ve fucked or sucked a pussy the naked smooth lips always felt softer and more pliable to tongue or cock than the pussy with hair going from top to tale. This was no exception; Vivian had the softest cunt lips imaginable. They had begun to radiate heat and the moisture from within was starting to mix with the saliva from me licking back and forward along the edges. As Vivian slowly got my cock deeper in her throat I felt, rather than heard, myself moaning in deep guttural tones. I was definitely in the early stages of a building orgasm. The wonderful things that she was doing to my cock, together with the sights and sounds around her pussy, were having a marked effect on me. The humming noises as she struggled with my cock in her throat, and the fidgeting of Vivian’s body, said that she wasn’t too far off her first orgasm. My head went toward her pussy, but this time I knew from her movements that she wanted me to concentrate more on her clitoris than anywhere else. I placed my thumbs on each side of her pussy and pulled the lips back to expose the inside pink of her fully exposed and vulnerable cunt. The colours inside were not completely visible in the light in the room, but I knew that they would be showing from a deep rose red through to a light pink. The deeper colours would be further inside. I placed my palms onto the inside of her thighs and held open the lips. I plunged one of my thumbs deep into her pussy as I placed my mouth completely over her clitoris. The heat would open up the hood like a flower to the sun. As this happened I felt her begin the first throws of a tremendous orgasm. This was something that had waited a long time to appear on the surface. She allowed my cock to come completely out of her mouth and she began to moan continually as wave upon wave of pleasure worked its way from her clitoris to her brain and back again. She let out a sob and began to cry… “Do not stop Dave, please. These are tears are of passion, not pain or sorrow. I have not felt like this before… ever. Not even with my husband. Please keep going with my button.” Her French accent made her sound like she was saying ‘Booton’. Her ‘button’ tasted so good that I really began to lick and suck for all I was worth. She tasted wonderful; it was like a mixture of honey and rose water. Vivian suddenly stopped her sobbing and began to moan deep in the back of her throat again. She was obviously enjoying herself, and so was I. As I kept my attention on her pussy, now licking every square inch, from clitoris to anus, she began to take my cock into her mouth again; and by now there was room for it to go in without too much of a restriction. As she lifted herself up, with the palms digging into my thighs, her head went over my cock and began to slide down all the way to the base. She didn’t manage it until the fourth time of going down, and then my balls banged against her chin. She then slowly allowed it to slide back out so that she could take a breath of air. She did this three more times before I knew that if I did not do something soon I was going to come all over the back of her throat. The problem was I wanted to put my cock all the way up to the hilt inside her tight little pussy… I wanted this more than I wanted to come into her throat. Taking one hand from her thigh, and keeping the other probing her tight little hole, I took the base of my cock in my left hand and slid my middle finger under my balls. I then forced the finger hard against the ‘tube’ below my cock, between my asshole and my balls. I pressed for all I was worth as Vivian went down on my cock relentlessly, although now only up to where my hand was in the way. After a few moments I knew that I had achieved my goal; I had delayed the climax. I thought, “If I could achieve this with just thought, it would be great. You must practice Dave, practice!” As the need to come diminished, I put my hands around her pussy again. I stopped licking her clitoris and anus, then moved my tongue up into a ‘U’ shape. I then pushed my tongue into her pussy, just as far as it would go. My nose was rubbing up and down the same area on her that I had just been pushing on me to stop myself coming. The feeling of my tongue inside her cunt and my nose squishing about between her ass and her pussy was too much for Vivian; on the fourth or fifth push she began another massive orgasm. Her body was shaking so much that she had to let my cock come out of her mouth and lie down on my thighs, letting her arms fall to the bed. I kept pushing my tongue in while she was shaking in orgasm, but I eventually had to stop when her position wouldn’t allow me to push my tongue into her cunt any more. This was the opportunity to change my position. I slowly pushed her to one side, and while she was lying flat on the bed moaning, I took all four pillows from behind me and placed them under her stomach, raising her posture as though she was hanging over a horse saddle. In the position I was in my legs were between hers and I was kneeling with my still rigid, unsatisfied, cock right in-line with her very warm cunt lips. I put my hands onto her buttocks, and then slid them to her hips as I moved into her like a dog would into his bitch. Her cunt was dripping wet, with so much of her juices flowing my cock went in the first inch real easy. I knew that Vivian was tight from the way she had reacted, first to my thumb going into her pussy, then my curled up tongue. What I wasn’t expecting was what I got as I began to push my cock into her. With her being virtually celibate for the three years since her husband had died she had reverted to being as tight as a young virgin. I had to push really hard, despite the juices flowing. Her low rumbling moan had begun again, as it had before her first orgasm burst its banks. This time, I thought, “She is really going to blow.” My next thought was, “Well, let’s see if we can’t blow together in orgasms that will rock the heavens.” With gentle constant pressure and as much willpower as I could muster to stop myself coming too early, I pushed half of my cock up into her cunt. I said quietly to her, “You are half way to taking all of me in Vivian. I would like to come at the same time as you the next time you orgasm. Push backwards and help me to mount you all the way.” Her moaning just started to get louder and louder, she really wasn’t on the same planet. As this was the case, I decided to go for broke. My cock was getting bigger rather than smaller and the more pressure I exerted, and the tighter the opening became, the harder I got. “It’s now or never Dave,” I told myself… “Go for it.” With this I began to make quick back and forth movements, each time making another half inch of headway. The copious quantity of juices from Vivian and my own pre-cum were mixing together now to make a solution that was the same consistency as KY Jelly. I began to slide further in with each thrust, first an extra inch, and then slowly out again… move forward, then back again. The sensations were out of this world. I looked down at Vivian’s cunt lips and they were stretched to what I thought was maximum. Each time I pushed in further my cock went in that much more. As I came back out again the bald lips just took a grip of my cock and pulled out a tremendous distance before they were pushed straight back in again on the return journey. It was going to be hard, but I decided that I would be trying my best not to come before she did. Her cunt was being put through a good workout tonight, but my cock was being put through a better one. This was something that I doubt I will ever be able to repeat. The sweat broke out and was now covering my whole body. Vivian was the same; she was showing a covering of moisture all over her back and it began to drip down into the crack of her buttocks and onto the shaft of my cock… all adding the amateur KY mixture. Finally, with one gargantuan effort I hit gold. I went into her sopping cunt right up to the hilt, my full hairy balls banged against her clitoris. I was holding onto her ass cheeks, then her hips for all I was worth… my laboured breathing getting more like Vivian’s as I plunged my pole up into her hot little cave again and again. Now that I was in all the way, the head of my cock must have been rubbing against her G spot with each forward thrust. This was a fuck like no other I’d ever had. The woman below me was like a caged tiger. I was glad her hands and more to the point, her nails, were grabbing the sheets rather than the skin on my back. Vivian stopped moaning and then literally began grunting like a small animal. As my balls began banging against her clitoris it took her over the edge… she started to squeal, then cry, then moan and thrash her head around on the bed. The pillows below her stomach were soaking wet. I kept banging, knowing that any minute I was going to start my own orgasm of all orgasms. I felt the tingle. I speeded up. The tingle began to spread. My cock was going in and out as quickly as I dare go without hurting myself. The sensation was going from my neck to my chest, tingling went to a wonderful vibration… moving with deliberate direction to my cock and my balls. The nearer my orgasm got the faster I wanted to go. I was hitting the bottom of Vivian’s pussy with each stroke now, so I withdrew to about half way and began to go at a slowed pace and that was that… I felt the orgasm coming like a freight train. Vivian was still thrashing her head back and forth; I was trying to go slowly, but everything became confused and I started to come, I speeded up, and the come started to gush. I shot my cock as deep as it would again into her cunt and felt it lodge up against something; it had gone right into Vivian’s deepest depths. She screamed and I arched my back in an attempt to get in deeper. My fingers grabbed a hold of the underneath of her thighs and pulled back as hard as I could. We were coming together in wave after wave of wet and wonderful ecstasy. Vivian was in tears, I was not in tears, but very close to it… my eyes were now closed tight and I felt the colour high in my cheeks. Vivian had raised herself up on her hands in her excitement and I mounted her from a different angle. There was a throbbing in my head; there was a throbbing in my cock. It was delivering its last spurts and I tried not to fall forward onto Vivian’s back, or fall backward from the warmth of this very talented woman. I kept my position on my knees until she stopped crying. Then, as the swelling in my cock subsided and eventually slipped out, I let Vivian move over onto her back and lie with her arms covering her upper face, tears streaming down onto her chin and neck. “Thank you Dave, thank you, merci, merci. That was absolutely wonderful. I hope you like it as much as me?” “Yes Vivian, I did. In fact I can tell you that that was the most magnificent fuck I have ever had in my entire life!” Vivian’s face broke into her teenager grin, “Well, what about tomorrow… and the rest of the days you must check out the Japanese information?” I fell over onto my back on the bed, next to her, and laughed until the tears were rolling down my cheeks as well. When I stopped laughing and crying I turned onto my side, then pulled Vivian into the same position and we kissed… for what seemed a long, long time. We gently broke off the kiss and I said, “Maybe we should discuss this situation over a couple of more glasses of the Sauvignon Blanc? If we are to talk about work it will become tax deductible! I have some in the fridge. It was there in case we did not get on well.” We laughed and cuddled together like a couple of love struck teenagers. The fact that we were 105 years old when our ages were combined didn’t seem in the slightest bit important. +++++++++++ The amorous adventures of Dave Bishop may continue. Who knows? ++++++++++++ Thanks for reading my story and thanks for all of the encouraging feedback. If you enjoyed it don’t forget to vote for me and continue to send the feedback. BTH 2406.