Saturday 7 February 2009

Older Woman, Younger Man - Part III

How perfect can the world be when it champions the union of the sexes in reverse proportions? The man in his pre prime days craves the oils of a fully developed woman’s body and she yearns for his adventurous and yet uncourageous mind. Snake in the Tyger shadow.


I had always been one of the endearingly prettier boys in my days and was thus not a stranger to those compliments and passes from interested parties of both genders. I had always had it for the adult woman, and it was a relentless drive.


This was the second week of induction and like a serial killer I was having visions of her. I had seen her glide past before the lift doors shut, her stiletto gracefully emphasised her full long legs as they disappeared underneath the pleats of her skirt. I can still remember Mariana’s voice when she cried out in tongues as she climaxed shuddering under my rapidly thrusting motion.


She had caught my eyes once in the cafeteria that afternoon, Fatima and Lillian my new colleagues were oblivious of the visual transactions going on. I wondered if she had the faintest idea of what was in my head. She turned at the moment I decided to pay attention to my immediate surroundings and started in our direction and to my shock, asked to join our table.


We introduced ourselves and confirmed our settling well in the system and that our individual projects were doing just fine, even as we were only getting used to our supervisors. Thinking that it may be one of the organisational skills, hanging for a day with the senior management personnel she asked me in particular to drop by her office later that day or something, then she walks away.


Anasewa was only a few years to 40 and rumour had it that she had moved here after a divorce. I wasn’t bothered enough to find out. It started out like a professional conversation in her office after work hours and I was going to ask about her marital past, just before our bodies made contact.


I was helping her get files that sat auspiciously atop the filing cabinet when her breast pressed into my back as she squeezed past. At this point, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know the answer to that question. I had always lived by a principle that states, “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear answers to”.


I pretended I didn’t feel it, even though I felt my back stiffen. I couldn’t take my eyes off her heaving chest as we talked about the blue file on the table. Then the silence hit me and I engaged my bravado.


“It’s pretty quiet around here after five” I said smiling as I moved closer to her.

She started saying “That’s because everybody has gone home and it’s a Friday, most folks can’t wait to get outta the door” as she moved close enough to touch.

She smelt expensive. Now I could now see the brownness of her eyes. Then she kissed me, stopped like she was savouring the taste, and kissed me again, then disengaged yet again.


I reached for her and kissed her like my life depended on it. She gently sucked my upper lips and I, her lower lips. It was soft and wet and she had a tongue ring. I pitch her against the wall shelf and undid her bra strap. Firm breasts pop out with dark erect nipples staring at me. The turn on was right enough to cure malaria. I catch the left nipple in my mouth and suck gently, wriggling my tongue around and around it and then flipping it for the other one. She moans deeply I slide my hand under her skirt looking for the love hole.


Her lacy panties felt intensely moist and I guided her as I proceeded to clear the table of all potential obstacles. She turns and smiles at me as she leans over the table, dropping her skirt making a right of way for me as I enter thrusting to high heavens and thinking to myself, thank God it’s Friday.