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I came into the diner one late week morning and took a seat in Fran’s section, as I usually did. It was fairly busy that morning, and our usual banter was not as extensive as most days. I put in my breakfast order, and soon had a sausage omelet, hash browns and rye toast in front of me. As I was finishing up, Fran came over and we teased each other, as had become our custom. As Fran was being pulled away to get more coffee for another table, she said to me, “Hey, what are you doing this weekend??”
“Nothing planned. I guess the party’s at your house?? Skinny dipping in your pool??”
“Nah, we don’t have a pool. It’ll have to be running naked through the sprinkler.” I laughed at the image of a bunch of us naked old folks in her back yard under one of those sprinklers that sweeps back and forth, as if we were nine.
“We’ll see what hubby thinks when I tackle you and start banging you into the lawn.”
“Knowing him, he’ll probably just say ‘next!!’ and tell the guys to get in line.” Fran looked at me, a mix of lust and affection in her eyes. “But you get me first,” she said, drawing her hand across my shoulders as she walked away.
Fran made her coffee round, then came back over. “Actually, you’ll have me all to yourself.” I raised my eyebrows at that. A married waitress asking me on a date?? We’d had our afternoon encounters, with her husband’s blessing, but this was a step up to a more formal relationship. I liked the idea, but needed to know more.
“You mean I’d have to put up with you for a whole weekend?? Did I lose a bet??”
“After you spend a weekend with me, you’ll think you won the lottery.” Fran gave me a sideways look, still a little affection in her eyes, mixed with attitude. I thought for a moment she was going to lean over to kiss me. “Besides, except for the improvement, you won’t know the difference.”
I looked at her a moment as she sat across from me. “So what brought this on?? Hubby renting you out now??”
“If he did, you couldn’t afford me.”
“Seriously, what’s up??” I said laughing at what had become a running joke with us.
“He and a couple of his buddies go on this fishing trip every year around now, when trout season opens up. I was razzing him about it, the usual ‘oh, yeah, you go off with your fishing buddies and leave me home all alone, then want me to clean and cook all the fish when you get back’ kind of thing. We busted on each other back and forth for a while, then he says to me, ‘why don’t you do something with your diner friend, you know, the guy who’s fucking you three days a week??'”
“What was his tone when he said that??” I asked, fearing for a moment that maybe the novelty of his wife coming home to him all sloppy was wearing thin.
“He was laughing. I don’t know if he was serious or not, but, ya know, he brought it up. I don’t see why not. Why should he have all the fun??”
“True. Maybe you can throw me a fillet when you get done cleaning them up. I get to smell fish no matter what happens.”
Fran stuck her tongue out at me, standing to go pick up someone’s food. “You know I’m way sweeter that any fish you’ll ever eat.”
A little while later, things had settled down some, and Fran came over to chat. “I’m serious about this weekend,” she said, looking directly at me. “Billy’s leaving right after work Friday, and won’t be home til Sunday afternoon. We can have a couple of days. The only hitch is, I have to work Saturday.”
“And you’re sure he’s good with this??”
“He suggested it,” said Fran with a smile. “I’m sure he was only half serious, but it was his idea. He can’t get mad at me if I follow up.”
“Just remember how it worked out last time he gave you away,” I teased.
“Yeah, but now I’m too old to get pregnant, so it won’t backfire on him this time like it did then.”
I looked at her. She reached over, taking my hand in hers. “I’m in,” I said. “When do I pick you up??”
Fran smiled again. “How about around six on Friday.”
I’ll be there, let me know where.” I thought about date options for a moment. “Hey, you like hibachi??”
“Yeah,” Fran’s eyes lit up. “I’ve been bugging Billy to take me there for months. He doesn’t like all the weird oriental vegetables, so he comes up with all kinds of excuses not to go. I’ve been dying for some California rolls and miso soup.”
“Good, then. I’ll be at your place at six on Friday. Wear something cute.”
“You’ll be lucky if it’s not torn jeans and a Harley t-shirt.”
“Hmm, and here I was thinking you might look good in a dress. Silly me.” Fran gave me a look as she got up.
“You just be there, take your chances.”
Fran texted me her address, a house on a dirt road a couple of towns over. I pulled up Friday at six, as requested. She must have been watching, as she opened the front door as I was coming up the walk. I was expecting the torn jeans and Harley shirt, but was quite surprised when she stood in front of me in a short black leather skirt, a dark red satin button escort dikmen down blouse, and black 3″ sling back heels. Her skirt came to about 4″ above her knees, her blouse was open three buttons, and I knew my eyes would be feasting on her perky tits all evening, judging by the obvious way her nipples poked through her top. I had not told her of any preferences when we set this up, but she managed to punch all the buttons that set me off. I wondered for a moment if we were ever going to leave the house. I handed her the pink rose I had brought, and she kissed me, standing on her toes to reach me.
I had never seen Fran in anything but jeans and t-shirts, so this was really unexpected. I was floored. Fran is small and skinny, all of five feet tall and maybe 110 pounds. She’s well proportioned, having a nice, curvaceous shape for a skinny girl, with slightly upturned B cup tits, a slender waist, tiny ass, and, to my surprise, nicely toned legs, probably from being on her feet most of the time. I expected her to have what I call “bird legs,” which a lot of skinny women do; hers, though quite thin, are more like cheerleader legs, muscular and well toned, and well proportioned to the rest of her body. Her golden blonde hair comes just about to her shoulders, and is matched by a similar colored patch down below. The sun highlighted the lines on her face, and the soft patch of wrinkled skin between her breasts. I don’t mind her aging skin. I love the way its softness feels on my cock when she wraps her tits around it. The signs of age the younger girls at the diner tease her about, are what draw me to her. Even with her age lines and ever present glasses-she tells me she can’t see a damn thing without them-she’s gorgeous.
We looked at each other a moment. Finally, I spoke. “Wow!!” I said softly, looking into Fran’s ice blue eyes. I leaned forward to kiss her. “You’re stunning!!”
Fran gave me a smirk. “Told you I had a leather skirt. I thought this might be a good time to wear it.”
“Two months ago was a good time to wear it!! But I’m glad I finally got to see you in it. I’ve been dreaming of this day for a long time.”
Fran kissed me, a little deeper this time. “I didn’t want you to think I was desperate.” She smiled and looked at her rose. “Let me put this in some water,” she said, turning to go into the house. I followed her to the kitchen, where she opened a cabinet and stood on her toes to pull out a bud vase. I was entranced by the shape her calves took as she reached up. I was already at half mast by the time she got the vase, wondering if I shouldn’t just call for take out, and take her right here. Then, I thought the build up might be fun, too, and lead to something more explosive later. We walked to my car and started the 30 minute trip to the restaurant.
We had a good conversation, as we always do, alternately serious and irreverent, often teasing and ragging on each other, all in fun. The restaurant was busy, as expected on a Friday night, and we had to park off to the side, a couple of rows from the building. We walked up, hand in hand. I felt the sharpness of Fran’s engagement ring digging into my fingers. I’d had the presence of mind to make a reservation, and we were shown to one of the hibachi tables, taking our seats on the end, giving us a good view not only of the grill area, but out a large picture window of town below us, the restaurant being up on a hill.
We sat, and the waiter came by to get our drinks and drop menus. I watched him as he took our drink order. He was trying to get a look at Fran’s tits, which were barely showing when she sat straight up, but were more obvious as she leaned to look up at him. I told her once he took off.
“The waiter was checking you out,” I said.
Fran laughed. “Yeah, I noticed. I wasn’t sure at first, then I saw his eyes when he was writing down what I told him.”
“I told you you’re hot,” I teased, only half joking. Fran made a face. “No, seriously. Skinny blonde in black leather skirt showing a little cleavage…”
“Very little!!” Fran cut me off, cupping her tits and pushing them up.
I laughed. “Enough to notice. Don’t underestimate yourself. You’ve been working with that gang at the diner too long. You’re starting to believe them.”
“Damn. You’re right,” Fran said, her face turning serious, as if she were having a sudden realization. “Thank you,” she said, leaning over to give me a short kiss.
“Believing in me so completely. At first I thought when you complimented me, you were just a flirt. Then, I thought maybe you were trying to get into my pants…”
“Guilty…” I cut her off.
Fran laughed. “Then when I let you get into them, I realized after a while, you really did see me as attractive.”
“More than attractive. Not just hot in the sense of sexy, but over time, despite, or maybe because of, all the attitude and banter, I saw the person underneath the good looking blonde who was bringing me my eggs.” Fran looked escort elvankent at me, her blue eyes fixed on mine. “And I do think you’re hot, but that’s not news to you. Though I have to say, you’re killing me, and apparently our waiter, in that outfit.” Fran smiled and kissed me again, breaking it off as our beers showed up, the waiter again checking out my date.
We gave our order, the waiter still checking out Fran pretty seriously, though trying to not be too obvious about it. After he left, Fran laughed, looking at me. “He wasn’t trying too hard, was he??” Having waited tables and worked in food service for many years, she knew immediately when a guy was checking her out, though it’s something all women pick up on pretty quickly, regardless of occupation.
“I have a feeling you’re going to get pretty good service tonight.”
Fran squeezed my left thigh under the table. “As long as I get well serviced tonight,” she said, making my cock jump. Her blouse was open to about midway down her breasts, and had a little play in it. “I’ll get his attention now,” she said, adjusting her top so it revealed a little more cleavage. My cock stirred again as I looked at her tucking in her tits, now showing a lot more side boob from the middle angle. The contrast of her pale skin against the red was striking, and seeing her 63 year old breast flesh was exciting me.
“You don’t mind if I tease him a little??”
“Not at all. He deserves whatever comes, or doesn’t come, his way.”
Fran got a sly smile. “The only come he’ll be getting will be self induced while he’s sitting in his car after his shift.” She squeezed my cock, and held it under the table. “I’ll be inducing this one, though,” she said, looking up at me, still smiling.
The waiter returned shortly with our salads, taking plenty of time to get the bowls in place, working around the various obstacles in the somewhat narrow table. Fran moved to allow him some working room, giving him a few deeper glimpses into her top. After he left, she again asked me, “You really don’t mind if I tease him??”
I could see she was going to be merciless with this guy. “Nah. Not at all. I can see you’re getting a kick out of it, and besides, it’s a turn on that other guys think my date is hot, but she’s going home with me.”
Fran leaned over and kissed me gently on the cheek. “You’re sweet. And it’s not like you had a choice.” I laughed.
As we ate our salads, the rest of the seats at the table filled in, and we were soon full up, minus a couple of positions. Fran had the seat next to the opening where the chef came in, and the seat next to mine was unoccupied, giving us a small measure of privacy. The waiter came around, taking everyone’s orders, giving Fran a good once over on every trip. On one of his trips to the table, she decided it was time for a visit to the ladies’ room, and she timed her departure perfectly, flashing him as she got up when her skirt rode up. She gave me a knowing wink, and was gone. This game would go on for the duration of our visit.
The chef soon arrived and got started, first confirming everyone’s order, then moving into his performance. As he got into it, I reached down with my left hand, putting it on Fran’s right thigh. As the chef worked through his paces, juggling eggs and tossing them into his hat with the spatula, I slowly moved up her leg. She opened her thighs a bit, allowing me easier access. It didn’t take long to find first a spray of curly hair, then the leg band of what felt like very thin panties. They were already moist. I traced a line up and down the leg band, then rubbed the outside up and down, feeling Fran getting wetter as I traced the line of her opening through the thin material. I slipped a finger inside her panties, running my finger around her blonde bush, then over her clit as I moved down into what was an already quite damp pussy. I felt her labia open to my touch, and the wetness inside. I moved my finger up and down gently, noticing an increase in her wetness. Fran was doing her best to be nonchalant about it, leaning forward to work on her salad as the chef started the fried rice.
The chef worked the fried rice, dumping in butter and soy sauce, mixing it around, and making different shapes as he moved it. I kept up my gentle stimulation of Fran’s twat, feeling it open wider to me as I played in her soft folds. She occasionally let out a soft moan or a whimper as her arousal increased. She put down her fork, taking my arm, squeezing it hard. I thought she’d break my skin, she was grabbing me so hard.
I had to break the momentum as the chef finished the fried rice and dished it out to the assembled diners. Fran pushed her salad aside, and we started on our fried rice. I moved my left hand back to her pussy, picking up where I left off. She settled back into her seat, and I soon had her back to where we were when dinner interrupted us. I could feel Fran getting more and more heated, and the flow from her pussy was now a lot escort emek heavier. I slowed my pace, not wanting the slurping of her juices to attract attention. The chef was into his onion steam train bit, stacking the onion into a pile, then shooting oil into the stack of sliced onion. I pushed my middle finger two knuckles into Fran’s pussy, pressing on her clit as I inserted it. She clamped her thighs closed around me, just as the chef lit the oil in his onion tower, making a torch of flame erupt from his stacked onions. Fran put down her fork and grabbed my arm. It was a miracle she didn’t leave me with claw marks. I could see Fran biting her lip as orgasm overcame her, and her pussy was soaking my hand. I could feel it pulsing around my fingers. I held still and let her ride out her climax. She came down finally, giving me a knowing look that said, “I’m going to get you,” but also now giving my arm a loving caress. I slowly pulled my fingers from her now sopping cunt, looking around the table. Nobody was looking in our direction, as they were paying attention to the chef, and I slowly licked Fran’s essence from them. She just smiled, going back to her fried rice.
I left Fran alone for the rest of our dinner. She really enjoyed her teppanyaki chicken, and I my scallops and shrimp. I got the check, and Fran excused herself for a trip to the ladies’ room once again. When she came back, she sat down, and put her hand in my pants pocket, leaning over to me, whispering in my ear, “Surprise.” She kissed my cheek, then smiled. I reached into my pocket to find the soaked panties she had been wearing during dinner.
I finished up, stood, and helped Fran out of her seat. She flashed me her bare, abused pussy as she swung around. If only our horny waiter had been there to see that!! We walked out hand in hand, around the side of the building to my car. I unlocked the doors, but Fran got to the car first, opening the back door. She kissed me hard, then fell backward into the back seat, pulling me with her. “Get in,” she ordered, sliding back to the opposite side, her skirt riding up, exposing her wet tangle of blonde, which was framing her now well spread labia.
I didn’t need coaching, and I was right there. We kissed like long lost lovers, Fran unbuttoning my shirt and jeans as I unbuttoned her blouse, sliding it off her shoulders, letting it fall away, revealing her excited tits, the nipples standing tall now that they were out in the open air.
I moved up above Fran, my cock stiff as a post, bobbing out in front of me. Fran, her skirt having now ridden up to her waist, grabbed it, pulling me toward her. I felt the head push through curly hair, then push into a very hot, wet, tunnel. I thrust deep, banging the head into Fran’s cervix, making her yowl. I pulled back, and slammed into her again, my balls slapping on her ass. She yelped again. I started pounding her hard as she yelled, thrusting back at me.
“Unnggg….aaahhhhh….bang me hard, you fucker!!” Her hips shuddered, and she came around me. I didn’t slow down, hammering away at her little blonde snatch. “Shit!!” she cried out as I smacked into her hard. “God, you’re going to bust me open!!”
“I’m for sure going to bust a nut in you, you little slut!!” I looked down at her, seeing her blue eyes with fire in them. “I’m going to flood your cheating cunt til my come runs down your legs.” Fran was getting off on the dirty talk, and she let out a couple of whimpers as her arousal built. “I’m going to come in you so hard it overflows you, then make you stand in line with me at Dairy Queen, so everyone can see it dripping out of you, and they’ll know what a slut you are!!” I slammed deep, sending her over the top. Fran’s hips shook and pushed back at me as she screamed. I kept balling her right through her orgasm.
I wasn’t far behind. Fran knew it. “Come on, baby, bust that nut up in me. Make me your slut!!” Fran panted as another mini orgasm hit. “Ooohhhh, that’s good!!” I slammed her deep and lost it, spewing hard in her pussy. “Yeah, yeah. Fill my married cunt!!” I could feel my sperm slurping inside her, even as I was still filling her. “Aaaaaahhhhhhhh…..” was all she could muster as I finished off inside her. I leaned down and kissed her hard, leaving my cock in her now soaked pussy.
We kissed til my cock softened up and slid out. I sat back on the seat as Fran sat up slowly. I savored the view that greeted me, Fran with her left leg up on the seat, her tits out in the open, her pussy spread, a long white trail emerging from it and sliding down her ass. I looked her up and down.
“What are you looking at??”
“A freshly fucked 60-something slut. I bet you’ve been doing this your whole life.”
“If it wasn’t for sluts like me, you wouldn’t get any!!”
“I got you.”
Fran’s look softened. “Yes, you did.” She leaned forward and kissed me, a kiss more of affection than lust. We had kissed many times when having sex. This was different. It was almost like love. I helped Fran sit up. She held out her hand. “Panties??”
“Yup. I have ’em.”
“Can I have them??”
“Nope. I told you. I’m taking you for ice cream. You’re going to stand in line with me, so the world can see what a slut you are when my come slides down your thighs and out from under your skirt.”
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