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Introduction:

Clandestine meeting of two older people
Once a week I took my lunch hour out of the office and met Dinah at the Crown by the side of the river. She worked at a local publishing house and the pub was just round the corner. Not wanting to let her bosses know of the clandestine meet we would meet at the car park of the pub and go in together.

Dinah was 60 and extremely slim, not much over 5 ft tall and weighed less than 45 kg or 100 lb. She was not pretty either but then I’m no oil painting. I loved the sight of her small behind and tiny little breasts although I had yet to get my hands on either of them. We met summer and winter for over 2 years, not every week but regularly enough. All my persuasive powers could not get her to meet me at other times. I did visit her house on a few occasions when her husband was there, but it was usually to help either of them with minor problems on the computer.

In the winter we sat inside in front of the usual roaring log fire; in the summer we could sit on the benches outside and watch the river flow past. Always the same drinks, a half of bitter for me and a tomato juice with extra Worcestershire sauce for Dinah. Mostly we gave our news, family and friends, coming or past holidays and the half hour we had passed always too quickly. On occasion we would walk round the canal basin where it emptied into the river and I would take the opportunity to put my arm around her waist whist we walked. We could kiss, but only if there was no-one watching. I think she thought that the sight of a guy of 56 and a woman of 60 necking may have attracted quite a bit of attention.

Then one day Dinah lost her job. She had never got on well with this set of employers and, as she gained her 60th that gave the opportunity to force her to retire with the result that the frequency of our liaisons was heavily reduced. Fortunately the era of texting was with us and we were able to keep making arrangements.

One occasion was the beginning of October with the sun in a cloudless sky producing one of those rare balmy early autumn days where it was comfortable still to wear shorts and a tee shirt but I was still in office attire, slacks, shirt and tie. Dinah wasn’t. She wore a short plaid mini skirt, blouson top and small sandals on her feet. Most women of 60 could not get away with that but slim as Dinah was it looked good on her. Well, I thought so anyway. She picked one of the empty picnic benches overlooking the river while I went in to buy the drinks. Today I had an orange juice and soda but still bought the usual for Dinah.

Coming from the gloom inside the pub out into the brightness of the midday sunshine I blinked as I cast around for where she was sat. At the same time she saw me and waved so I threaded my way past the stone benches and out onto the grass where the wooden picnic tables stood. I perched the drinks on the slatted wooden top and lifted my legs to climb into the bench to take my place a Dinah’s side. We took up our glasses clinked them together and took a sip both of us not wanting to rush the drinks as that would betoken the end of our time together. For a few minutes we chatted as usual and I could see that she knew that I was not interested in the river today, my gaze always coming back to her bare thighs, the mini skirt having ridden higher as she sat.

Have you ever noticed that there are 2 types of couple you will see holding hands? Very young couples and much older ones. Dinah and I were no different and would surreptitiously hold hands, usually under the table but this time she put her hand on mine where it rested on the table. She did not stop there, picking up my hand she put it on her knee then took her hand away. Her bare skin was soft and smooth and I liked the feel of it. She caught the look on my face and grinned and cupped up her drink in both hands then steadfastly looked towards the river. We had been meeting like this for 2 years and she had regularly knocked aside any suggestion from me that we take it a stage further no matter how indirect I made them.

I could under no circumstances understand where she was going with this. I am a confident and sometimes overbearing personality but Dinah could reduce me to a submissive slave with just one look. On this occasion I was not going to be manipulated so I removed my hand and put my arm around her shoulders. I did that in the cinema when I was a teenager so it felt a little like my second childhood! But I liked it.

We stayed that way for several minutes, sipping at our drinks and chatting about the late summer holidays we had just taken with our respective spouses. I liked my marriage and Dinah liked hers, we just both needed that little bit of spice that a clandestine affair injected into our lives. That in spite of the fact that it was not consummated. We could have been characters out of the 70s sitcom, Butterflies.

Now Dinah had no intention of leaving it there, in full view she pulled my arm from around her and once again placed my hand on her knee. I felt that all eyes in the pub garden were on us but in reality I could see no one looking our way. I liked it and was happy to leave my hand exactly where placed. Well, not exactly, if you leave your hand in any one place you will no longer feel the texture under your fingertips as the brain tunes it out. To retain the sensation you have to move your fingers, not far, but I did so automatically to continue the feel of her soft skin.

Dinah obviously was not content because, after minute or so, she put her hand under the table and pulled mine up her leg to her thigh just below the hem of her skirt. Her flesh was soft and pliant without a trace of fat or cellulite. Her skin felt like that of a 20 year old. I think was having trouble with my breathing whilst trying to appear calm, collected and attempting to carry on a casual conversation. It’s not easy. There was a stirring in my loins and my thoughts were racing as I contemplated the alternatives. There weren’t any. In just over 40 minutes I had to be seated at my desk, including a 10 minute drive back to the office. Temple pounding and heart a-flutter I gently caressed the top of her bare and smooth thigh.

This was still not enough for Dinah. Once again she reached under the table and pushed my hand up under her skirt.

“People will notice.” I breathed.

“No, they won't,” she said and stared into my eyes so I could see that, in spite of the brightness of the day, her pupils were heavily dilated. “No one is looking”

I did not want to stop. The feel was electric; she radiated heat, obvious even given the warm day. Once again she reached under the table and pushed my hand up her leg so until it made contact with her panties. Still not content, she lifted the elastic and said “Go on!”

“Are you sure? We’ll be noticed”

“No we won’t.”

I slid my fingers inside to feel her labia. She pushed at my hand and so, in full view of the pub clientele I slid on finger into the moist warm recess of her cunt. As the tip of my finger slid over her clit she shuddered then downed the rest of her tomato juice in one gulp.

“I’ll see you at my car.” She said rising from the table and climbing out.

I was parked in the pub car park, but she had parked round the corner in one of the spaces she would normally have occupied whilst she worked there. By the time I had squeezed my car from its cramped location and driven to where she was parked I was just in time to see her getting into the driving seat of her car. I stopped behind her and she motioned me to park in one of the free spaces. I climbed out, locked the car and walked over as she motioned me to get in beside her in the passenger seat.

The first thing I noticed is that her panties were in the footwell at her feet. She lifted her skir,t looked at me with those dilated eyes and asked, “Is that what you want to see?”

Those words are burned into my brain every time I think of them I remember the sight of her holding her tiny skirt up over her tummy, legs slightly apart giving ample view of her shaven cunt.

“Yes.” I breathed, put my arm round her shoulder, leaned in for a kiss and slid my free hand between her legs. There was not a trace of stubble on her mound meaning she had just shaven it. She had this planned hours beforehand! But I did not care, my fingers were exploring one of the tightest little vaginas it had been my privilege to experience with probing fingers.

I slipped two fingers into her moist channel whilst rubbing the engorged bud of her clitoris with my thumb. This was putting a huge strain on my hand but I did not care even though it was going to hurt like hell later. My tongue slipped into her mouth and I explored deeply whilst she ground her nether regions against my hand pushing harder and harder. All the while I was conscious of the fact that we were sat necking in the front of a car in broad daylight in an exposed position but the few people that were there were a long way off and were taking no notice of this little blue Fiesta.

She broke off from the kiss and I felt her hand pushing my fingers to rub harder. She started to pant and her gyrations became more feverish, breaths getting shorter and shorter. All of a sudden I could feel her upper body shaking and her cunt contracted several times around my fingers as she went into the throes of a massive orgasm. She grabbed my head and pulled my head down to kiss her again as I could feel the spasms of orgasm become less and less.

It was 5 to 2. I had to go and was going to be late back, something I never do. I wanted to take her to the local common and get my stiff cock inside of her, but I did not have the time.

“Meet me later,” I asked “after work on the common.”

“I can’t. Brian has invited company to tea this afternoon.”

“OK, till we can meet again then”

She nodded; I got out and drove back to the office arriving nearly 10 minutes after time. I was in no mood to work, my body was flushed wish adrenalin and my cock refused to subside.

That was our last meet at the pub. Dinah became ill and could not drive. I visited her at their house but whilst I got her on her own a few times, once while her husband walked the local shops, we never had another opportunity.

2 weeks later she collapsed and died. I miss her lots.
4 comments

sanctoboscoReport

2014-07-15 22:21:08
I loved the story and the memories of my short and hot/cold affair with our 77 year old neighbour that it evoked........
Than you.
S.B.

anonymous readerReport

2013-08-23 10:07:54
Good story, sad ending, but we all bid farewell one day.
Well expressed and not a lot of glitter where there shouldn't have been, very good

old63Report

2012-08-07 23:04:17
I've got to admit the ending was sad. I'm sorry that you never got the opportunity but I guess some things are not to be but we can always say what if. But atleast she gave you pleasure and you gave her pleasure even if it was at the end of her life.

skipper02451Report

2012-08-07 16:49:42
Nicely written thnaks

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