A torrid evening with Hope

Continuing my march through Cleo‘s sushi list, Hope and I had the $100 omakase at Sushi by Bou, in Chelsea. It’s un-findable, hidden behind a little coffee shop. Swanky, sexy, dark, and small, the food was delicious – a bargain for what it was.

And Hope – also swanky, sexy, and delicious (though neither dark nor small) was fucking hot in the tight, short black dress, black tights, and crimson panties she wore at my request. She had been unable to find the time to let me in to her selection, or her dressing, but her cunt was needy by the time I unexpectedly (I had imagined simply a chaste dinner) tossed her on the bed and collected the accumulated wetness she’d been storing up.

I was delighted, an hour earlier, when she surprised me by telling me I had her for nearly five hours, and even more so when she told me I could do what I wished with her. The last time my cock nestled in her warm, soft, ardent mouth was before COVID (though she had come for me once by her own hand, and once, by my mouth, in the after times). My cock felt, needless to say, right at home.

I had reread what I had written previously about Hope, about some of her frustrations with me, and for whatever combination of reasons – her lengthy dry spell? my accumulated wisdom? – Hope didn’t have to fight to have either of the two violent orgasms she had with my head between her legs on this particular night. They came, she came, easily, and even quickly. If anything, I worked to stave them off.

We always connect easily, talking about our families, our work. Her son is a few years younger than mine, and very different. So. Interesting conversation. And, she’s starting a new career in her mid-40s (as I did), so, interesting conversation.

I like Hope. I like her sparkly eyes, her wide smile. Her soft, supple breasts, and her toned thighs. She’s an inch or so taller than I in her chunky boots, an inch or so smaller barefoot. And on the bed? Well, I can reach her throat comfortably while tickling her oh-so-sensitive clit with my tongue.

And I did.

It will be summer the next time I feast on her but between now and then, we have a fun project of picking out clothes for her new career. And our next date.

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