Having affirmed that their spirits were still capable of feeling and relating passion, he and Ann had agreed to meet this morning to start round two of what sheà referred to as 'passion therapy.' Arriving at the hotel, he once again reflected on the step he was taking, but he immediately pushed those thoughts aside, sure that he needed to go through with this. He needed to understand what he was feeling - was it lust, or something more? He had come to believe that his infrequent inability toà have sex with his wifeà was due to his advancing years, but the raging hard-on he had had since pulling out of his driveway said otherwise. He spied Ann across the parking lot, got out of his car and began to wend his way to the front door of the hotel, meeting her at the door. They shared a nervous look, then smiled and almost giggled as they both entered. Ann retrieved the key from the front desk, and they made their way to the room. Ann immediately headed for a couch on the other side, turned, sat and patted the couch right next to her, an unspoken invitation to sit and chat.
He joined her on the couch, and their conversation picked up where they had left off a few days earlier, but going deeper than perhaps was prudent in public. It still amazed him that two people who had only met a few days earlier could talk so easily about anything and everything, and that there were no judgements about things that were said between them. But it was when he mentioned that he was an occasional diarist that her eyes went wild with a sharp intake of breath. She was, as well! And like him, it was only through pen and paper that she was comfortable writing down those wants, needs and desires that her spouse had no interest in. Just like him!
Their conversation ceased at that point, as though they had crossed an uncertain line. Their eyes locked, and in their hearts both just knew - this was the moment when they would write in their diaries, though ink would not be involved. Her hand inched across the sofa and came to rest on his knee. With his vision lost in her eyes, he could feel the electricity shooting through his veins, just as it had in the cafe. It had been what? 20 years. More. That long since he had seen that look in a woman's eyes. A look beyond lust, one of pure passion. He had not been aware of it before, so lost in the conversation they were having, but he was rock-hard once again. He looked down at this wonder, and as he looked up, he saw that she had looked down as well. A slow smile spread across her face, one that he could not resist.
He reached out, placed the back of her head in the palm of her hand, and pulled her close. Their lips met, and like a smaltzy remake of The Love Boat, fireworks exploded in his head. The brushing of his lips against hers soon turned intense, and their tongues reached out in introduction.
Her hands made a slow march up his leg as his hand trailed down her shoulders and cupped her breasts through her shirt. Her head leaned back in a small moan as hands traced her nipple through her bra, though her hands never stopped moving up. She reached the bulge in his pants, and the slightest pressure made him moan in return. They parted slightly, and helped each other remove their tops. He was amazed, and excited, at how hard her nipples were. He had never favored larger over smaller breasts, only that they be natural, and hers were perfect. As she traced her fingers over his chest, he reached down and circled her nipples with his tongue. Her reaction startled him - he had had numerous girlfriends before he married, but he had never - not once - heard any woman moan like that, for any reason. He intensified his efforts, and her other hand came up and pressed him to her chest, urging him to pay even closer attention to her breasts. Minutes later, as he came up for air, he looked into her eyes - straight into a raging inferno. He was slightly taken aback by the intensity he saw there, a feeling which quickly faded when he realized that her feelings were just for him. As if their minds had magically melded into one, they stood together and fingers started to fly, hers over his belt and zipper, his around and under her skirt and panties - almost like there was a director and camera running, the remainder of their clothers hit the floor at the same time.
But her hands were quicker than his, and she immediately began to stroke his cock in a gentle and loving manner. She slowly lifted her hand to her mouth and sucked on his pre-cum, her eyes growing wide with pleasure. She immediately fell to her knees and took his cock into her mouth; she began to bob up and
down frantically, as if the moment might end, and she would wake up alone, from some forbidden dream. His moans, though not as loud as hers, were certainly as sincere as he experienced the sensation of soft lips and warm mouth on his member, something he had not experienced in years. He asked her to move up on the bed and lay down, and she complied willingly, but he was not done with her mouth; he moved up and placed his cock against her mouth, and she greedily began to suck him again. He was taken by surprise as much as she was when he exploded in her mouth without warning - having been denied so long, he was no longer able to hold back at will. He was simply out of practice.
He quickly caught his breath and looked down at her, and the smile that was returned was like the sun of a thousand angels descending from Heaven. "Yes," he thought, "it's definately her turn. Let's see if I remember how." He stretched out beside her and kissed her gently, silently thanking her for what she had just given her.
He kept kissing her, working his way slowly down to ber chest, savoring once again the sweet hardness of her nipples, but moving quickly down to the wet sweetness he knew awaited him. And she did not dissapoint - it was almost like drowning, she was so wet. Though it had been a long time, he quickly gained his sea legs and began to slide his tongue up and down her other lips, slurping up her sweetness. He turned to her clit, slowly twisting his tongue around and around. Her hips bucked, burying his nose deep, as she came for the first time. He began to lick her clit again, and she roughly pushed his head away, twisting her own head from side to side, moaning softly. Kissing and licking her inner thighs, he waited until her shaking subsided, then moved in once again, but with more confidence this time. Once again she came quickly, but kept her hands to herself as he slowly sucked the cum from her cunt.
By this time he was rock-hard again, and quickly moved up to embrace her in his arms. Twice in quick succession was something he hadn't experienced in many years, and he was anxious to start, lest he go soft again from what he expected was his age. But he needn't have worried - the slow realization that it wasn't age but a long lack of passion that had held him back for so many years orevealed to him all that he had missed. He looked deep into her eyes as he pressed his cock against her vagina - and pushed. Her eyes shot wide and tears began to fall down the side of her face. "It's been so long...." Ann sighed and gave herself up to him. They rocked slowly, then harder, and it was over before they knew it, both their bodies racked with multiple orgasms.
He looked deep into her eyes and thanked her. "Passion Therapy - I get it now" he said.
"Maybe" Ann replied.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"The therapy was for me."
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ThatSexyFeeling
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