My name is Scott. I met Annette during a time when I was desperate for dates. I would place ads and hang out in bars and clubs. My dad told me that women love to dance and men who could dance were sexy. So, I signed up for dance lessons with a well respected instructor which were held Wednesday and Friday nights. There were thirty students, mostly women. The lessons ranged from salsa to ballroom and we danced on hardwood floors. The seductive way Annette moved mesmerized everyone. She supplied music and wine which made the classes very pleasurable.
Annette was 56 with olive skin and a large bosom. She considered me her best student because I learned quickly. I enjoyed dancing with her. It gave me a chance to enjoy her intoxicating perfume. Annette was single. I noticed she didn’t wear a wedding band and I commented to her about it.
“I am waiting for the right man. How about you Scott?”
“I am waiting for the right older woman” I replied, hoping she would make the first move. She gave an innocent peck on the left cheek and commented “Perhaps someone has a crush?”
It was now the second week of December and New York just got pounded with 28” of snow. Instead of canceling class the next night, my instructor was ready to cha cha.
But after class, her car didn’t start. The battery was dead. I offered her a ride home and she jumped into my warm car. I changed the station from the usual heavy metal to classical and saw her grin. I drove her to her house in the slush, talking about the storm but wanting to park somewhere and kiss her. Later, at her place, I worked up the courage to do just that and much to my surprise, she reciprocated.
“I suspected you wanted to do that since the very first class” my mistress said. “Come on in, I’ll make us some spiced eggnog”.
I parked the car on the street and marched through a snowbank. Annette’s kitchen had herbs hung over the sink and a wicker bowl of figs and pomegranates. We sat down at the round table and sipped our winter elixir. Annette loosened the top buttons on her silk floral top and gave me a coy smile. “Class ends in a few weeks. I hope you put the lessons to good use” the exotic beauty said, taking clips out of her hair.
We finished our drinks and I took the mugs to the sink while she walked to the front room, anticipating watching some classic romance. I joined her although I was hoping we weren’t going to sit through a sappy film. She wanted to dance so I obliged her. Annette had incredible moves but that was to be expected from someone who spent 20 years dancing professionally. We danced for a few moments then sat down on the couch.
“My shoulders hurt. Could I trouble you for a massage?” she asked, oh so politely.
“Annette, it would be my pleasure.”
She took off her blouse and bra, turning her bare back to me. I pressed into her soft perfumed skin, gradually relieving her of stress. She turned around, her perky breasts now in view. “My front needs attention also” she commented. I gazed into her eyes as I fondled those mounds. “I like the company of older women but I have to say, you are by far the sexiest I’ve ever seen.” I finally confessed, feeling my erection scrape the inside of my jeans. “I have mood music” she declared as she put on one of her favorite cd’s and dimmed the lights. Annette looked ghostly in the red glow of the scarf she put over the lamp. “Do you think I look beautiful for a woman my age?” she inquired.
“You know you do” I replied, showing enthusiasm for whatever she had in mind.
She slipped out of her skirt and white lace panties, revealing a neatly trimmed patch of black hair. I held her legs firmly and nibbled on her pussy lips, feeling the pubes tickle my nose. Her sweet nectar dribbled down and my tongue caught it.
Annette unzipped my jeans and pulled out my cock, stroking the underside first, then grasping the whole thing in one hand. I hurried out of my pants to allow her easy access.
“I think we need pillows” she said, grabbing a few round pillows from the couch. She kneeled on one and took my length deep past those crimson lips. The heat of her mouth made me forget that she was my teacher. After a few moments of oral she lead me to her room down the hall. Inside were posters of Fred Astaire and Italian operas.
“I know other activities besides dancing” she whispered, guiding my cock with one hand, but she stopped. She teased me, rubbing the head over her pussy lips. I raised my head to see why she hesitated. “just building up your anticipation” she stated. Annette slowly lowered herself around my erection, noticing I had closed my eyes. She thrust and I held her ass, feeling her tight muscles contract and relax.
My lover put her hands in mine, stretching my arms outward and biting my nipples. “I want you to last a long time” she blurted. She was a woman who deserved passionate love making because she put her heart into everything she did. Annette reached back behind her and put a finger near her pussy, feeling me enter and exit, lubed with her cum. We fucked for close to an hour and I was spent. We headed to the kitchen for food.
“Ever try Italian roast beef and Swiss cheese? We need to eat hearty, especially you” Annette said, making sandwiches and pouring red wine. I was still hungry for her and that was obvious since I stood behind her, kissing her neck, whispering “I adore you”. She was relieved to know I was romantic as well as sexually competitive. We finished our meal and headed back to the front room. She closed the curtains and lay down on the pillows, ordering me to get on top. Her muscular body pulsated beneath me, ready for another round of intense fucking. As I plunged into her, she bit her lip and tilted her head back. I admired her smooth body while rocking her hips with my force.
“Be careful not to come before its time” Annette said. I heeded the warning, wrapped my arms around her and fucked her harder. My mature lover was insatiable and generous. Annette ran her fingers through my hair as I sweated, working with the rhythm of the background music. She climaxed twice and was waiting for me. Feeling the urge, I pulled out and sprayed my cum onto her stomach, the mess dripping around her. Annette took some on a finger and tasted my seed. She looked wicked as she sucked it off, savoring the flavor.
“Delicious” she commented. We kissed and I didn’t mind the taste of myself on her lips.
In the past, I would not stay after sex but Annette was special and she made the comment that “you aren’t obligated to stay. Do whatever feels comfortable”. I slept beside her, caressing her shoulders and ass under the sheets. I never dreamt that this would happen to a guy like me. In the morning she made breakfast which consisted of a western omelet and croissants with mint jelly. “I am not worthy of you” I blurted. She smiled and replied “going by your performance last night, yes you are”.
We sat and enjoyed the quiet morning, noticing the snow had melted slightly. Crows had gathered on the yard. When classes ended, it was a melancholy time but we remained together, having sex three times a week with no strings attached. Annette taught me things I never experienced with women my age or younger. |
