I met Alma Morrow in the laundry room of our apartment building. Dat or night it was a creepy area. Before I moved in I heard that a woman was attacked down there. Whether it was an outside stranger or someone from within the building is still unknown. They never caught the attacker.
At sixty-three Alma Morrow was still a strikingly attractive woman who actually looked at least a decade younger. She had no pretentions about her age and refused to dye it so it was kept a natural snow-white which was usually drawn back into a long, single pony tail. Her face was angular and bautiful with only a minimum amount of wrinkles. Set within this face were the most stunning pale blue eyes I'd ever seen. They first day we met she wore a t-shirt and faded blue jeans. I would come to realize that she rarely allowed such slovenly attire. Regardless, the clothes did reveal a lean, shapely body. She maintained this figure by running at least two or three times a week.
As we waited for our clothes we got aquainted. We were both single. Alma was married many years ago but it went bad. I did not pry any more details out her once I saw the look of sadness in her eyes. But once that passed she started to flirt quite aggrassively. I am not the type of guy that women throw themselves at so I was very flattered.
She invited me to dinner later that night. I naturally accepted without hesitation and arrived at her apartment at the arranged time. She greeted me at the door in a red blouse that was opened just enough to display a discreet amount of cleavage and a casual dress that fell just below her knees. Her legs were long and smooth, or at least, what I could see of them. I stole quick glimpses at her.
I was impressed with her intelligence, humor, and good nature. Such qualitles I seldom found in any single woman. I only had to meet a woman who was old enough to be my grandmother. The gap in age did not bother me in any way and imagined a relationship beginning between us.
After dinner and a few glasses of wine we settled down onto the sofa and our conversation began to grow more casual and relaxed. I told her about my less than spectacular history with women. She was very philosophical about the whole situation and how many people relate on a purely surface level and never go any deeper.
"You and your lover should be best friends," she said. Again there was that look of sadness in her eyes.
Impulsively, I leaned over and kissed her. Her mouth was tight at first and then her lips softened. I traced my fingers down the length of her slender neck, down to the exposed area of her chest. Under my finger tips I felt her skin quiver slightly.
It was not long before she began to participate. She slipped her tongue into my mouth and danced excitedly around together. I required no more encouragement to continue forward and opened the remaining buttons of her blouse. Her tits were quite small. The nipples hardened quickly under my caresses. I pinched them gently until she let out of soft sighn and I knew I was on the right track. I hated silent women who gave no indication if they were enjoying the sex or not.
"I wanted to fuck you the moment I saw you," Alma said in a momentary breather. Her face had a soft glow.
I pushed aside the blouse and suckled on one nipple and them the other. As I was doing this I slipped a hand up her skirt, moving my hand up the length of her muscular legs and bagan rubbing her pussy through her panties. Her body continued to sink into mine. Her hand had found the prominent bulge in my pants, deftly opening the zipper. Alma was no timid grandma who was ashamed of her sexuality. Her aggrassion intoxicated me.
Once shhe had liberated my cock and was stroking it in the most loving manner I felt all restraints removed. I had managed to get my finger under her panties and found the warm wet flesh of Alma's cunt. Her clit responded quickly and I pinched it firmly between my thumb and forefinger. This caused Alma to tighten her grasp on my cock. I pushed her gently back on the sofa.
I removed her skirt and panties. I plunged my face into her bush, which was as white as the hair on her head. Her hips rose and fell ryhthmically off the sofa. I deeply inhaled the scent of her cunt---it was clean and sweet. When I nibbled her swollen clit her body bucked violently. I was nearly knocked back onto my ass. I tentatively teased her asshole. The muscles tigtened. I was not sure about proceeding any further until I felt the muscles relax. I inserted the tip of my finger and withdrew it. The second attempt I sank it up to the first knuckle. She made no protest about this activity. I continued to withdrawing and inserting until I was in to the third knuckle and massaged rectal muscles with slow circular motions. She moaned louder.
I looked up at Alma, her face was soft and damp. Some psychic communication passed between us and it was time to cease the foreplay. I rose and settled down over Alma. She took my cock into her hand and poised it towards her awaiting cunt. She rubbed the tip over the damp swollen mouth for about a minute or so before guiding it in. I gently started thrusting my hips, pushing my cock gradually deeper and deeper until my balls were bouncing off her ass.
Alma's face was tight, her eyes rolled up in their sockets. I lifted her long athletic legs and pushed them up until they were almost around her ears. I should have been more conscious about her age and that she might be as flexible as she once was, but no protest was ever uttered and I contiued fucking her with increasing tensity.
I had no real sense of how much time had passed before I felt an orgasm drawing nearer like a runaway train. I tried to prolong it for as long as humanly possible but when I started feeling a hurting ach in my balls I knew that it was time to relieve myself. At the moment I quickly withdrew and ejaculated copious over her belly, chest, and snow-white pubic hair. I let out a deep cry and pumped my cock until I was empty, flicking the few remaining droplets off and watched them dribble into the pale pink ips of her cunt.
Once we recovered, Alma and I staggered into the bathroom. She had an old fsshion tub with lion club feet. We sat in the tub as it filled with warm water, lathering one another's body. There seemed to be a wonderful intimate eroticism about a bath tub. Under the soapy water I fingered Alma pussy. Her face remained impassive and I soon withdrew my finger and just enjoyed the bath with my new love.
I spent the night at Alma's apartment. She told me about her various sexual encountrs throughout the decades. She was a hippie during the sixties and enjoyed a wide and varietied selection of lovers. At one time she even lived with a woman but it was a passing diversion and soon met her husband after breaking up with her girlfriend. The thought of Alma eating out another woman caused my prick to twitch.