5 comments/ 30873 views/ 0 favorites A Weekend in Melbourne By: jimhawkins John Thornton was tired after a long day of arguing with the company's consultants and accountants about its export plan. Melbourne was cold and wet. He had finished about six o'clock PM and knew that he would miss the 6:05 express to Deniliquin almost the best train of the day as its first stop was Bendigo where he lived. The next train home didn't leave Spencer Street for another hour. John wanted to grab something to eat for the train because it didn't have the usual dining car he enjoyed. He wanted something more substantial than a snack. One of his choices was the Melbourne Club, but he was almost certain to meet someone and have to chat to them. "Chatting with a stranger is the last thing I am up for" he thought. He turned off Bourke Street into a hotel. "Hmmm there's a convention for parents of intellectually disabled children. I wonder if I'll find out something that might help us with Bronwyn?" He read closer. "No it's about Autism." Having ordered a counter meal and a lemon squash he sat down in the bar and looked around waiting for the meal to arrive. He saw a lady sitting at the bar alone, drinking a margarita on the rocks and wearing a white, slinky dress with a slit up the side. "She must be feeling daring I don't think she's got a bra. Oh well to each their own" he thought then he turned back as his food arrived. The woman rubbed her legs together. Before long, she felt her nipples start to harden and her body start responding in ways it hadn't in a while. "Tonight is a special night, mine to enjoy" she thought She felt uninhibited and free from the restraints of family and small town morality that normally bound her. She was in a strange country half across the globe from Alabama, at a conference for parents with Autistic children for her son. She was to pass on all the information she learned to her own support group. But tonight there were no seminars and she wanted to do something she hadn't done for a long time, something which her husband and son would never know about. A few moments later Thornton had the odd feeling that someone was staring at him. "Oh dear, I can/t go anywhere without someone knowing me, I expect that in Bendigo but a hotel in Melbourne?" He turned round expecting to see someone he knew from his work, the National Party, the Diocese or perhaps from the advocacy support group he had joined to help his daughter and people like her. "That's odd -- I don't see anyone I know." He mused. He resumed eating but that odd feeling wouldn't go away. He looked around more slowly this time. "It's that lady in the white dress. I'm sure I don't know her. Better be polite, I suppose. He nodded to acknowledge the lady who was smiling and rubbing her thighs together at her table. I hope she's no tart wanting to pick me up," he thought. The woman had been watching the slightly short, conservatively dressed man walk in and sit at the bar. "He looks lonely, his overcoat is wet it must be raining outside. I wonder what he is doing here? He can't be staying here he would have put his coat in his room. He can't even be planning to be here for long or he would have checked his coat in" she concluded to herself. She looked back at the man again wondering about him. "Why, he's even got a hat, he looks like someone out of a 40s movie. Well maybe that's what they do in Australia. Wonder how old he is? Grey and thinning hair, a fair few wrinkles but what a lovely smile" She saw him smile "nothing ventured nothing gained" she thought blushed and smiled demurely, then stood up, walked to the bar where he was sitting eating, ordered another drink and turned to John "Hello how are you?" she said. "Excuse me Ma'am, do I know you? I thought you were looking at me. My memory for faces isn't all that good. I do hope you don't think me rude." "What a strange voice, perhaps it's the Australian accent," she thought before replying, "No I don't know you. But yes I was looking at you. I guess that's pretty rude of me. I am sorry. I'm American and I'm here for the Autism conference. I was just thinking about the people here and idly looking at them." "I'd guess you're from the old South? Your accent is unmistakable. Those who say Americans sound all the same are wrong. Are you a presenting a paper?" "Yes I am from the South but no I'm just an attendee," she explained. Thornton glanced at his watch thinking," I've got 30 minutes till my train leaves and nothing much can happen in that time. The lady's probably lonely and looking for some company" He then asked, "Why are you attending?" "My son is Autistic." "We share a bond then. My youngest child is severely intellectually impaired." "May I ask your name please?" "I'm sorry. My name is John Thornton. I live in Bendigo -- a city about an hour and 20 minutes away by train." She offered her hand, "Pleased to meet you John, I'm Margaret Hale. Please sit with me –join me at my table." He shook her hand but instead of letting his hand drop she held onto it for a moment. "I would really like someone to talk to, would you mind?" "Excuse me while I bring my dinner plate over. Would you like anything to eat?" He asked tentatively. She smiled released his hand and replied, "No thanks." He returned with his half eaten dinner and sat down. "Well let me be predictable and ask how do you like Australia?" She began to talk and then when he had finished his food and taken the plate back to the bar she took his hand in hers saying pensively, "You look very reserved, formal and distant, can you spare some time for me? I know so little about this country and I don't understand why my son is like he is. If you have a daughter with problems perhaps you can help me. Tell me about your girl?" "Well Mrs. Hale" "Margaret, please." She smiled warmly. "Well Margaret," he ventured a half smile, "its rather personal and I find it hard to talk about let me just say I love my Bronwyn very much but its hard to care for her for she's like a big baby. At 10 she's still incontinent, I have to feed her because she can't use cutlery. I also dress her. My daughter can't talk, either." "Wow that sounds hard to manage." "Yes," he answered shortly. "How do you cope? Tell me what resources you have in Australia. I had a look at some displays in the foyer for the conference. I was impressed. What's your health system like?" "My daughter gets a health card which means the government pays for almost all her medicines. We pay a nominal $2 for each prescription. We also have a scheme called Medicare which I think is the best in the world. It pays most of your doctor's bills. Now some doctors accept the Medicare amount in full settlement but most don't and we have to pay the gap but that's never more then about $40 even for her top specialists. Public hospitals are free to health card holders but we pay a private insurance too which covers her and our family. All Australians who do take out private cover get a rebate off our tax." He took a sip of his drink and continued, "I know something of your system and don't like it much. I mean ours isn't perfect but I do think it's a lot better then yours. Every Australian has pretty good coverage; I don't think that's true for Americans." "No, it's definitely not as good. Perhaps I should live in Australia. Does she go to school?" "She goes to a special school I don't like it. It depresses me. Its very good at what it does, there are only 6 children to a class and there is a teacher and an aide to each class." "So why don't you like it?" He finished his meal and resumed, "As I said it depresses me... you go there... it's a warm inviting place and parents are always welcome. Then you see these children, many of them in pain, many in wheelchairs... most can't talk. And however much it tries to teach the children, to have a curriculum and however much it benefits the children its not much more then childminding. None of them will ever work or live independently... why... the teachers have to change teenagers nappies- you call them diapers. It just upsets me. I'm sorry Mrs. Hale for going on so. " "Please honey I've already asked you to call me Margaret and don't worry I do understand." She squeezed his hand, "I get upset too and my boy is no where near as badly off as your daughter seems to be. Would you like another drink?" "Um no I don't drink much alcohol but I'd like a cup of tea. Shall we go to the Palm Court? They do a wonderful English style high tea there and the room is a recreation of a 1930s style hotel dining room. I think you might like looking round it." "Yes thank you," she took his hand again; "don't be afraid to speak your mind about your daughter. After all you'll probably never see me again." He looked at her hand holding his, "Shall we go now??" She let go of his hand and nodded. They walked together up a flight of stairs and into the Palm Court where there was a small band playing Gershwin. "Oh John this is lovely," she gasped. "I think it's a tad overdone but there you are. Sit down and let's have some tea and scones." The tea came in a silver pot with an ornate handle. "Its real tea here not that horrid teabag stuff," he said as he poured it. They ate and talked for a time as Margaret looked round the room admiring the fittings and decor. John suddenly started, glanced at his watch," Damn it; I've missed my train again. I'm sorry Mrs. Hale err Margaret. I got carried away. Your conversation has been delightful. This has been great! I don't often get to talk to pretty ladies like you." She blushed as he went on, "but I have missed my train and there's not one now till 9:10 pm. I shouldn't complain the train service is excellent so much better then it used to be fast comfortable clean oh here I go again rambling on - forgive me please." "I have enjoyed this too. But honey, if I made you miss your train then come to my hotel room. We can talk better there and Ill make you some tea or coffee. Come for a chat and relax. You don't look at all comfortable in that suit. Come and put your feet up. Nothing more I promise. Oh do say yes, please John?" "Well as the next trains not till 9:10 pm I have almost 2 hours and this hotel's but 10 minutes walk from Spencer Street station." He mused half to himself then, glancing up at her, he said more loudly, "Yes Margaret, I'd be delighted. Thank you for your very kind offer." He picked up his hat overcoat and bag and followed her out of the room. He looked at her as if for the first time as they waited for the lift. He rather liked what he saw: a blue-eyed woman in her early thirties, short auburn hair, good figure perhaps just beginning to be a bit plump but not overly so... and he thought "she had a lovely voice." She opened up the door to the room and while fussing round making tea there she instructed John to get comfortable saying ""John put your stuff over there and take your coat off. Kick your shoes off if you like and sit on the couch. "You really don't need to make tea after all we just shared a pot," John replied hanging his coat carefully and sitting down on end of the couch. Margaret sat down on the other end and asked, "When did you find out about your daughter's problems?" "The day she was born" he said heavily. "It was a Sunday night; Bronnie was born about 9.30 in Bendigo hospital. I was there – always was for the children's births- it snowed the day my eldest was born- it does get cold in Australia you know... Anyway... her gynaecologist... who's a friend of ours... goes to church with us... well me now... Susan doesn't go anymore... told us there was something wrong... he wasn't sure what it was... thought it was hydrocephalus" John stopped. Margaret saw tears smart in his eyes and reached out her hand. She squeezed his hand then stroked his cheek. It seemed to her that John didn't notice at all that he was lost in his own private prison. "I had a bottle of champagne packed, Susan didn't know about it... thought we would celebrate... it all turned to ashes... Dr Winchester said... that he thought we should get Susan and Bronwyn to hospital here in Melbourne as soon as possible... I'd dropped the boys with my brother to look after them... I thought I'd be taking them home again that night but I rang Jos... my brother... and told him I was taking Susan and the baby to Melbourne... in the end though they got an ambulance and I took the boys the next day. I hate hospitals... they make you feel so helpless... there's absolutely nothing you can do" His shoulders began to shake and Margaret watched as tears rolled down his face "Damn it I hate crying... I hate losing my self control. It does no one any good at all. It's so pathetic... I'm 48... rich... successful... a good citizen... and here I am blubbing like a baby. I have to be there to help Bronnie the boys Susan. I can't do that while I cry." Margaret pulled his head down to her shoulders "It's alright to cry. We all need to let our emotions out. Don't be worried." They stayed like that for some minutes. Margaret soothing John as the tears slowly dried up. Then she wiped his face and gently kissed him. "I guess you're lonely... that you find it hard to talk about" "Yes I do" John replied. "No one can help... people feel embarrassed... people at St Paul's... the church we go to... say Bronwyn's improving... maybe she is but she has so far to go... they don't say how well the boys are doing... even when they win prizes at school or when they play in the team that won their age premiership in the district Rugby competition... they are all well meaning, nice people without a clue about what its like. You can't talk to anyone... either they don't want to know... and I can't blame them for that... or because... if you are talking to another parent who does understand because they have a child with problems... they too are overwhelmed by it all" He stared bleakly at the wall. "I feel that way too though Stuart... my son... doesn't have the problems you have... he will get a job... in fact he may be very well paid.his form of autism doesn't affect his mental powers... his favourite past time is doing math problems- at age 10 he has taught himself calculus... no... he has difficulty relating to people" "Is that Ausburger's Syndrome Margaret?" "Yes, so you've heard of it?" He nodded. "How do you talk to your wife about this? Surely she should be sharing your burdens with you and you helping her with hers" "But that's where it stops. I can't talk to her anymore it's all too hard. At least we are together still most couples split up... they can't cope" "Yes that happened to me then I was very lucky I met a man who is very kind to me and who loves Stuart and me and married me knowing Stuart's problems. But he is a lot older then I am and he... isn't much fun... we don't share the same bedroom" Margaret gulped and wiped her eyes and went on "I know how it is no one to talk to... no one to share your problems with... Milton... my husband tries but its not the same" It was John's turn to comfort her which he did holding her still for a while until Margaret pushed him away went to the bathroom and returned after washing her face. She sat down and asked "How do you cope with your child's problems? No I don't mean physically but how do you explain this to yourself. Some people blame themselves" "I don't know, I believe in a holy righteous God who loves us all despite our sins and who is just and merciful He paused as if summoning courage, "It's the only thing that makes meaning for my life. If we don't have god then we don't have a meaning for if we just evolved if our minds are just random electrons wired together in some special way then we can't know that anything is true and so we can not say our minds are just random electrons. How well do you know your bible? Some people say God is glorified by suffering. They haven't suffered like Bronnie does... they haven't sat in hospital and looked at their child all wired up and with tubes hanging out after operations on her brain at 3 months old... they haven't changed nappies on a 10 year old. It's all too hard. But without God my life is meaningless. Sometimes I sit in my office and cry. I look at the kids at Bronnie's school and want to cry too so many of them are so worse off then she is" he stopped almost as if he had run out of words. Margaret wriggled over and hugged him, her arm round his shoulder. "Its alright it really is I know what you mean. At least you have the guts to say it." She lent over pulling his face to hers and kissed him on the lips. "Thank you, that was a nice surprise." John momentarily slid his arm round her waist then as if shocked by his audacity he took the hand away. "Why didn't you leave your hand there? I could do with a cuddle." As I said earlier "I'm a bit lonely." Sheepishly John returned his hand to her waist. "I wasn't too sure I should do that or that you'd like it or where it might lead" He paused for a moment as he thought to himself "Careful... this is getting intimate... it's wrong... soon you'll be lusting after this lady... with the best of intentions... the kind the road to hell is paved with... you'll be wanting to console her... you'll want to cuddle her... and where will that end?" He coughed and spoke again." Um I was talking about Bronwyn it's a real problem for me Susan, my wife has stopped going to church. She said she gets no support from the people. We are the people who should be supporting others. My brother and I own a family business that employs over 100 people. We are both very rich. We are well educated. It's our duty to be helping others. And we do. But I can't help my wife; I can't show her the Gospel. I cant make her see how her ways upset our sons no I cant help my wife anymore she just seems to want to spend money and live her own life. I do a lot of the housework and all the shopping it's my social event of the week. In fact that's where I'd be now if I were home, he smiled wryly. But the family's gone away this weekend; Susan wanted to see her parents so they caught an overnight train to mys. So this evening's free. And oh... we have a cleaning lady as well but it's not enough for Susan... nothing seems to be," he finished lamely. Do you still love your wife? "I hope so. But if I did what would I be doing here?" his question hung in the air. As if to cover up the silence he went on hastily. "But Bronwyn is where it all stops. Poor defenceless little girl I take her for walks to make her stronger and to give her some fresh air or pull her on an adaptive bike. I sort of hope she might learn to peddle herself. But deep down I fear nothing I do or say can help Bronwyn get better. Yet I'd give a million dollars to help Bronwyn." "You poor worried man," Margaret kissed him again lightly and held his hand, "I love my husband too but I'm pleased to be here talking with you. Why do you worry so?" They talked like that for some time. Margaret saw John fighting to speak of his problems with his child - problems of loss, of frustration, of self doubt. "You see Margaret," he went on, "you're powerless. You can only do so little to help your child. That is so hard for I had always believed there were few limits to what you could do if you set your mind to it and it was in accord with Gods purposes." Margaret nodded still holding his hand, she stroked his cheek with her other hand. "But there are limits and you have to recognize them. You can't change the world, John." He shook his head, "But we can and we should." "Why do you torture yourself?" She kissed him again lightly at first, then she reached behind his head pulling it to her and her tongue licked his lips then she nibbled his upper lip with her own lips and then his mouth opened and his tongue sought hers and slid into her mouth. Her hands stroked his back. She felt his hand tighten round her waist; his other hand slip softly, lightly through her hair. A Weekend in Melbourne What seemed like minutes later John pulled back panting for breath his face flushed, "I don't believe I did that. I've never kissed anyone like that except my wife." "Well, honey, it's about time you did because you are one fine kisser. I'm fixing to get another one right now. " Margaret reached forward and threw her body on top of Johns, rolling him onto his back on the couch, his head at the join between the armrest and the back. She attacked his mouth with hers her tongue plunging in and out of his mouth, making love to his face one of her hands caressing his cheek the other holding him behind his back. Gradually she slowed her kissing, from deep open mouth lashings to more tender lickings, and finally to gentle pecks on his closed mouth. Finally she pulled away. She looked dazed. "John, it's been a long time since I did that" He looked up at her face and ran his hands through her hair. "Likewise when I go to bed I am worn out all I do is sleep Susan and I haven't made love in years. It's just too much what with getting the children ready. Did I tell you I have two boys both older then Bronwyn and I feel so guilty I don't give them the time I do Bronwyn, with doing housework to help Sue, with the business with the community work we are supposed to do. There's no time to be a couple... no time for yourself. And after a while you wonder if you want to be a couple anymore. But you go on because of the children... I know we are not alone... most parents of kids with disabilities have the same story... we are the 2nd most likely group to break up... so I'm not surprised your first husband and you did too" She ran her finger over his chin. "John I need to tell you this. Like you and your wife, my husband and I haven't had sex in years probably for much the same reasons as you. But also he's so much older then me like I said earlier... um he's is much older then you... he's a grandfather. Don't think I'm a slut please," she loosened his tie and undid the top shirt button and went on. "But I'm here on my own thousands of miles from home. I wanted to let loose tonight, to find a man and make love to him. I'm lonely. I feel all dried up inside. I want someone to show me I am still attractive, still desirable still... " her voice broke and she almost sobbed "still loveable... when my husband doesn't seem to find me any of that. When I saw you in that hotel bar eating your dinner you looked so distinguished, powerful, so self-controlled and self-possessed and damn it all just plain sexy. Who says older men aren't sexy look at Sean Connery. My husband's sexy too... well I think he is but" again her voice broke "he doesn't seem to think I am. Well when I saw you, I wanted you and now I've talked to you I want you so much more. John please stay the night with me... make love to me." She sounded very nervous, she did not move but gazed down at him her arms propping her head up. John glanced away thinking "I knew this would happen... how can I say yes to this lady... I'd be unfaithful to Susan... it would be so wrong... yet... how do I say no... and upset Margaret... I'd make her feel worthless... rejected... I should never have come to this room" He felt responsible for Margaret for her happiness but he also knew that he lusted for this woman, he almost hated himself for his weakness. She gasped and sighed. John turned to look at her thinking that she looked intense and innocent and something else John couldn't sense for the moment, "Yes that's it, she's hungry, hungry for me" he understood with a start. He smiled wryly, "that's an offer I can't refuse Margaret. I'm lonely too... I need comfort as well as you. I need to be told I'm loveable attractive and all that too. Even if I'm no where near as old as Sean Connery" he smiled and reached up feeling Margaret's left breast through her dress. Margaret lowered her head kissing him again but this time he responded holding her head tightly. She reached between his legs where she felt his penis growing hard. John pushed her head away and planted a trail of kisses along Margaret's neck down to her shoulders while his hands fumbled with the zip at the back of her dress. "No let me do it," she said standing and lifting her dress off. He watched, amazed, as Margaret knelt before him. He grasped her breasts - slightly bigger than medium size one in each of his hands and stroked them. "Do you want the light off Margaret??" "Leave it on," Margaret muttered between kissing his face. She pulled John down off the couch so he too knelt then unbuttoned his shirt, pulled his tie off and slipped his shirt out of his suit trousers and up away from his body. They knelt on the floor, naked chests pressed together, and kissing, John's left hand running through Margaret's hair brushing it up, twisting it then smoothing it down his right hand lightly caressing her back. Margaret held him tightly with one hand her other undid his belt and trousers. John gently pushed Margaret onto her back and bent down kissing, licking and sucking on her breasts. As her nipples turned hard in his mouth, she twisted beneath him. John kept kissing her breasts as he ran his hands through her hair lightly brushing it up then smoothing it down again. Margaret tapped at John's waist and pointed to the couch. "Sit up honey please." He did so and watched as Margaret stood again and kicked off her shoes and pulled down her panties. While she did this John took his shoes off and then dropped his trousers then he stood up and folded them and put them next to his coat and shirt. "Honey you are tidy, here I am fixing to make love to you and you want to hang up your clothes," she giggled and took John by the hand leading him back to the lounge where she pulled his conservative white underpants down then sat him down. They kissed slowly, lovingly, gently looking at each other as they did so. John ran his hand over her cheek and pulled away. Then he said "I liked talking to you; I haven't spoken with anyone like I did with you for a long time. Will we be able to talk again afterwards? Or will we be so changed by all this that we wont want to?" "Honey lets keep talking," Margaret suggested. "Tell me what you're feeling and how you like it and let me do the same." John leaned forward and kissed her neck and her shoulders, licking her hard and hot. "Oh god," the girl moaned. "I like that, John, I love the way you are kissing me. Oh now you're kissing my shoulders I feel your tongue lick me, it turns me on so much. Oh dear sweet man... really do love the way you kiss me. Please kiss my breasts again. Oh yes John... I can feel your teeth on my breast nibbling me there and your fingers rolling the other nipple and... it feels wonderful. I never want this to stop. Oh John this is... so fucking good" John gasped a little startled by the word and glancing at her saw that she surprised herself when she said it. "My turn now," she said grasping his member in her hands then stroking it and moving her head down she kissed the end of the shaft and licked it. John's body shook. "Was that ok?" she asked. "Not yet sweet lady, I want to pleasure you first. " He took Margaret by her hands and sat her on the lounge next to him then, turning her body, lowered her so she laid there her legs on his lap. He lifted them off his body and stood then sat down again Margaret's legs behind him now and he then lay down on the couch next to her. "Keep talking Margaret please. I love to hear you talking, that way I know what you like." "Fuck, John oh... You're kissing my breast again. You're licking it your sliding your tongue over my nipple. It's making it so hard like a little pebble. Oh yes. Oh now you're slipping your lips down to my tummy, you're kissing my tummy all over, all over." She giggled. "You're breath sort of tickles me when you blow on my tummy. This feels so good. It's lovely. Lovely... I feel like a woman again... not just a mother... but like someone wanted, desired. John it's been a long time since I felt this way. Now you oh my... your hand is stroking my inner thigh Its turning me on so much," she gasped sharply and shut her mouth hard, her commentary stopping as John opened his mouth and then closed it over her pussy. He licked some juice up and raised his head, his mouth covered in her moistness. "Keep talking" He glided his tongue up to her clitoris. "That's wonderful John," she gasped as his tongue flicked her clitoris. "I love this it's so good... I never do this... oh don't think I'm sort of slut... but now I feel sexy... complete... we are sexual people its part of us... and it's been so long since this happened to me. Please... ah oh, I am so sopping wet and I am wet for you John Thornton. I want you. That tongue is marvellous. Oh, I want you to keep licking me so hard. I don't want this to end right there, oh yes please keep your tongue working. She pushed his head down and ran her hand through his hair. John reached up for her breasts. "Ouch! No don't stop. Pinch them again. Ah my nipples so sensitive. Oh yes! Roll them in your hands... don't stop licking. Lick harder John! She pushed her body closer to his as he licked harder and faster. "Oh yes! Oh now! Oh yes you're making me cum. You're wonderful... you're making... " As her orgasm took over her she gritted her teeth grunting and moaning her body convulsing till she finally pushed Johns head away. "I'm cumming. Oh John! Oh holy god... oh yes... oh! I'm cumming!" She reached down taking Johns head in her hands and lifted it so his face lay next to his. She kissed him on the lips, "John that was wonderful but have I turned you off by being... well... bad. It's just so long since anyone made love to me. Now I feel whole again... a real person... not some husk." She licked her juices off his face. "There's no danger of that," he replied between her tongue strokes. "This is new to me too. My wife has never done this after we made love" he flushed and reddened. "What have I said?" his body stiffened "I'm unfaithful." She cut him off before he could continue by saying "No John, don't be like that. This is a night for us and us alone. It won't happen again and no one will ever know." Her hands dove down for his member and stroked it. "John please sit up." He did so." Now tell me what I'm doing to you just like I did, talk to me please John." She stood up and in the light of the lamp next to the couch the middle aged man saw her, a woman just past the age where most men most admired them, no longer the youthful taut body. He ran his eyes over her still unlined skin, her full breasts just beginning to sag a bit, her slightly plump belly, "They are wrong," He said out loud. "What John?" "Those men who want the young models are wrong. You're far more lovely then any actress who nips and tucks and diets and only makes herself look artificial, you're more lovely then those who use plastic surgery for they end up looking like plastic toys themselves. You're far more lovely then those young girls on the beaches basting themselves with suntan lotion in their bikinis." "I guess that's a compliment. What am I doing?" "Umm oh my you're licking my penis, the head its sending shivers up my body... oh you're tickling me oh stop that... I... you'll make me laugh too much" He gasped for air and groped for words. "You're just ever so lightly touching my legs, my thighs. It tickles but its bliss... touching my middle-aged stomach... yes I know I'm not youthfully trim, I never was. You're tracing some of my wrinkles on my face. All the time your tongue licks at my member... oh what can I say or do?" He grabbed her head and bending down kissed it and once more ran his hands through her now disordered mop of hair. "No it's not auburn in this light it's spun gold." Margaret pushed him back, "I love your voice it's so different." "Oh Margaret you're licking my penis again... you're squeezing it in your hand oh my... oh dear... oh dear Lord protect me. You're sucking me off your tongue licks the head of my shaft... then along the base as you slide your mouth forward and back. Your lips press on my member I can feel the roof of your mouth or is it the back of your mouth on my... " He gasped and sighed and groaned. Margaret slid her head back, "Keep talking please." "Now you're... you're bobbing your head again. Again you've opened your mouth to take my cock inside your mouth. I can feel the back of your mouth against the head of my... my cock you're still licking me. I'm throbbing; your saliva is dripping from me. I have never done this... no not ever. I feel your throat hit my head repeatedly," he gasped unable to speak for a while. Margaret angled her head and slid his cock head down her throat, holding it there then bobbing back so the head almost slid out of her mouth then she repeated it slowly this time. "I feel like a tree that's been watered after a long drought... you know how they shoot new leaves... they look dead and then come alive" "Oh my sweet God... what am I saying... oh... I'm going to cum... do you want to swallow or should I take it out?" Margaret shook her head and slid his shaft even deeper inside. She looked up and nodded. "Oh Margaret... never done this... I'm cumming so much and so hard... oh sweetness," he gasped as the semen sped from his member and down into her mouth where it lay there while he finished his load and then she swallowed gulping it down. John looked down as Margaret finally released his shaft. "Come Ill get you a drink to take the taste out of your mouth and then let's sit for a kiss and cuddle now," he held out his hand, reaching for her and drew her up to the couch where they sat together for a while. "Margaret that wore me out. I don't mean I'm exhausted I just don't have the sexual energy I need to rest up for a moment lets talk." She chuckled, "You'll need plenty of sexual energy to keep up with me honey. I want you every possible way and then some. I'll make that tea now." She did so while talking about the conference she had been to that day then brought the tea over to where John was standing at the glass windows of the room. "Thanks for the cup look at the view over there," he pointed to the west. "That is Spencer Street station where I will catch my train tomorrow. They want to rename it Southern Cross. What a horrid name -- all commercial... doesn't tell you where the station is... it has been Spencer Street for 100 and more years why change now? Even this late at night there are county trains leaving and arriving. See there's one now it never stops. When I was a boy and we came to Melbourne I wanted to sit and look at the station and the people thronging it and the express trains leaving for everywhere. Then look down in Bourke Street see the trams looking like golden beetles all warm and glowing with the lights on in them." Then, he pointed across the street and over some other buildings, "there, and you can't see it for those buildings, is the Port and the river and over there," he pointed to the east, "are all the suburbs that make Melbourne, sadly, the most dispersed big city in the world." "What do you mean?" Margaret asked, her arm wrapped round his waist. "Lowest population density, most urban sprawl. So sad, really. Um, Margaret I'm getting cold and though the view is interesting I think the bed over there would be both warmer and... um... more interesting." "Agreed. I'll race you for it." "Not fair I had my tea cup in my hand," he said coming second and smiling broadly. "So what are you going to do now, Mr Thornton, if you think I cheated?" He hands reached up to her nipples, "They are so hard, like tiny stones," he said softly brushing his palms over each one and seeing them respond as if jolted by electricity. He half pushed half threw Margaret backwards. She sprawled on the bed her pussy open, revealing the juices that had accumulated there. "I've opened my legs for you to enter me. I want you to fuck me so bad, John." She closed her eyes. "Your cock is hard and thick... lovely in my eyes. Please," she dropped her voice to a whisper as she looked up at him, "fuck me. " He reached down to her legs hoisting them high on his shoulders and in one swift move he plunged his penis in her. "Oh yes John all the way, deep, bury it all the way inside my pussy. She cried out in pleasure. Do you feel my pussy tightening around you, sucking on your cock inside me... massaging it with my muscles. I feel you fuck me hard and deep long hard strokes, pounding your cock inside me." "Yes Margaret, take it; take my cock, all of it." "I want to feel you push hard into my pussy; I want it stretched to accept your cock. I know my juices are pouring down my pussy onto my asshole. I know my pussy is responding like it hadn't been fucked in years." "Oh Margaret you are hard and rough... um... fucking," he still sounded unsure on that word, "me back. Your hands are scraping my back." "John I can feel your lips bite at my nipples pulling them, stretching them long and hard I am lost in the fucking you give me." Reaching her orgasm Margaret shook and screamed as her cunt muscles worked on their own, clenching and contracting hard and fast around Johns your pounding cock her juices splashed out from each time he pumped his cock inside her. "My body isn't mine now... it's yours John you own it. This is so different so good... I am cumming for you in a nirvana that I have never experienced... cum inside me... fuck my pussy and fill me up. I'm your cunt; your whore I want to have your sweet cum buried deep inside me, to feel you explode and cover the inside of my pussy with your cum." "You're making me cum myself Margaret -- I can't hold back anymore," his spurts of semen shot up her pussy. The two held each other their bodies shaking seemingly for hours. "John that was marvellous. Will you do it again later?" Margaret said dreamily as she wrenched herself from his arms after a long slow kiss. "Well I missed the 9:10 train, too, he smiled. You've made me miss two trains now so I might have to take my pleasure while I can. But can I use your shower first; I d like to clean up a bit." "Sure. Grab a towel from the closet." "Do you like Hitchcock films, John? Ever seen Psycho?" What's that I can't hear you with the water running? Tell me later please. Um... what are you doing in the shower now?" "Thought I'd join you." "Oh... Margaret don't do that... I don't think it will work. I've already had far more sex tonight then I have had in ages." "Don't believe it. Tell me what's happening. Tell me what I am doing to you." "Yes, you're soaping me all over... making patterns with suds... shampooing my hair getting me all in a lather... here pass me that shampoo and let me do your hair too... um do you always sing in the shower?" She interrupted 'Matchmaker' from Fiddler on the Roof to reply, "only when someone is washing my hair and driving me wild with desire... what are you doing now... this hair washing is serious... women pay a lot for it to be done professionally... concentrate on it please," she said with a giggle. "It's rather hard to concentrate on that when there are... err... so many distractions," his hands explored her body, the hills of her breasts, and the valley between them, all the clefts and where the streams of water flowed down. All the time he distributed the vast excess of shampoo over her body," I doubt many hairdressers wash hair like this." "You might make a good hairdresser with a bit more practice." "Its not hairdressing that I want to practice at the moment." "And you said you were worn out and you wouldn't rise to the occasion... well I proved you wrong." He gripped her waist as he stepped towards her. "You may kiss me John... ah yes. A seriously good kisser and I'm fixing to get a bit more then a kiss." A Weekend in Melbourne "You were indeed and now you're getting it." "Oh yes John... my legs are parted for you... just bend at the knees a bit and you'll be right... ah yes... oh yes John... so gentle... so loving. I can feel you inside me... its a lovely thing... ah... I'm all weak at the knees... have to hold you... ah... John if you keep stroking my clitoris I don't know Ill be able to stand... um don't stop though. I'll move and rest against the wall... ah... fill me... yes. John. Such a tender lover... oh John" her voice tailed off to mere grunts and abandoned wails. "Oh I don't know when I had seven orgasms in the one night before," she said as they dried each other off afterwards. "Seven?" "Oh yes some were multiple... like in the one act and some lasted for ages. " "When she was dry she asked, "Like something to eat? There's some food in the refrigerator. Hmm... let's see... but then we could get room service. John, I do believe you're blushing. Surely you are not worried about what the room waiter might think if he saw us naked in bed when he served us?" "You are a horrid tease," he kissed her." The food here will be enough." They munched on the bread and jam and the fruit left by the hotel and then returned to the bed basking in a long slow wordless cuddle, hands exploring each others bodies. Margaret' last thoughts before sleeping as she looked at John were imagining spending the three days of next week the conference still had to run like this -- with John -- instead of attending the conference, of having him inside her pussy again and even her ass, of exploring Melbourne with him and of exploring his mind, soul as well as his body.