It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to state her age as mid-fifties without a hint of disbelief on the hearer's immature face. It was hard for her to face up to the fact that before the end of December, she would actually be seventy and officially as about senior that a senior person could possibly get. It didn't seem so long ago that she would have vehemently opposed having any person that old at one of her dinner parties. Now, she was in violation of her own stringent standards.To make matters worse, her pretty granddaughter Rose was joining her for the holidays and she knew she would be bombarded with stories of lust and lost love in the secret corners of university life making her feel truly ancient like a statue in some musty museum.Rose was due to arrive later this evening much to Fiona's chagrin because she had been hoping to cultivate the new butcher's assistant Gerald to meet her for drinks in the tourist pub that townsfolk seldom visited. He seemed keen to learn. He pounded, and pounded inside me as I came and a moment later I was spent. Totally spent. Totally consumed. Totally used. Totally John’s. And it felt incredible.----I fell back against the couch and realized Debbie had been watching my orgasm and that somehow John had lasted through my rocking, explosive eruption and had not come when I did. It was a major turn on to realize that I had found a man who could bring me to the height of my passion and still be unspent himself. How do you satisfy a man like that? John had continued to buck and groan the entire time I was exploding on him, gushing on him, and riding him into my own oblivion. But it was now his turn. He needed a release and it needed to be big. Debbie’s eyes focused on John’s hard cock that was still slippery wet with my pussy juice. John was now on his knees on the couch above me and stroking his own cock slowly as if looking for a place to unload his seed. He stood up from the couch and moved himself.
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