The sky in the west was still fading from its evening tones of rust and mauve to the deep blue of night as she pulled into the parking lot of the hotel.

Shifting the gear selector into park and turning off the key she sat silently and still behind the wheel as the conflicting emotions of anticipation and reservation argued their quiet debate in her mind. Though they had “known” each other online for many months she had never actually met this man who had become such a part of her life. Over time they had bared their most hidden thoughts and desires to each other until finally the opportunity had come to act out the drama about which they had written over and over. The date was set. Business trips had brought them to the same town. He had arrived at the hotel before her flight had even landed. His message chimed on her phone as the plane taxied to the gate: room 312… 7:00 p.m.

By the time she walked the airport concourse and reached the car rental line she was acutely aware of the growing dampness of arousal that threatened to soak through her slacks. By the time she made the short drive to the motel she could hardly breathe.

The thoughts raced through her head: What am I doing? What was I thinking? I’m a full-grown woman and her I am acting like a crazed cheerleader on a school trip.

Spinning alongside were the insecurities. Does he have any idea how long it’s been since any other man has seen me naked? What if he runs away screaming? Can you say cellulite? Gravity times age equals oh my.

For a long moment the battle was a stalemate until finally the ache of desire that tugged insistently from between her thighs to between her ears won out.

Opening the door she stepped from the car and, retrieving her overnight bag, she made the trek through the hotel lobby to the elevators.

She only threatened to turn back another dozen times as the elevator crept upward.

Then, three doors down on the right, she paused to knock on the door to room 312.

Within a few moments (far too quickly to run away) the door opened.

“Welcome,” said a gentle baritone voice, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”

He reached to clasp her hand and usher her inside.

Even in the dim light she could see the easy smile beneath his twinkling blue eyes. He, like her, would only have described himself as middle-aged average. Hair, once brown was now highlighted with silvery edges. His trim beard shimmered with silver as well. Height… medium. Weight… likewise. Once he had been athletic. He could probably still hold his own on a softball diamond, or in a fishing stream. He was dressed casually in slacks and a navy golf shirt.

The light was, indeed, dim. The lamps alongside the turned-down bed glowed with a dim amber that certainly wasn’t standard equipment. The only other light came from a dozen or so candles which bathed the room in a shimmering warmth. The soft fragrance of the candles offered a hint of vanilla and cinnamon.

“I’m sure you are weary after your long flight,” he said. “I’ve prepared an evening that I hope can help you relax and enjoy. Perhaps you’d like to freshen up a bit.”

Taking her bag he guided her to the bathroom. It, too, was lit only with the dim glow of another handful of candles. The folks at “Bed, Bath and Beyond” must have loved him. Setting the bag underneath the edge of the vanity he stepped outside and closed the door behind him.

In his absence she noticed the tub was filled. The scent of jasmine permeated the moist air. She reached to touch the water, finding it warm and inviting, slick with the hint of scented bath oil. A bar of simple glycerin soap sat on the ledge.

In the solitude she disrobed, hanging her clothes on the hook behind the door next to the soft deep green robe that was already hanging there. She stole a glance at the mirror that lingered into a longer and more appreciative gaze. She smiled. “You know, I don’t look half bad.”

Stepping into the tub she steeled down into the steaming waters and closed her eyes, letting everything else disappear in the warmth of relaxation.

She must have fallen asleep in the warm confines of the dimly lit tub, because her next sensation was a soft touch across her chest as his hand began to swirl the soap in slow circles.

She jerked toward wakefulness as he spoke, “I thought you could use some company.”

“Where did he come from and how did he get in here without my notice,” she wondered. Then the inevitability of the path she had set upon answered, “No sense worrying about it now.” So she signed and closed her eyes to simply enjoy the sensation of his touch.

The slick swirling of the soap swept over her chest and then down her flanks to encircle her belly. Then his hand swept upward and the first overtly sexual touch of the evening came as the soap traced a figure eight over and around her breasts, his fingertips rippling over her quickly ripening nipples.

Again his hands glided downward over her belly and thighs as she sighed and let her kneed fall open when his hand trailed back upward over the peaks of her swelling labia and this fingers teased the silken curls of her pubic mound.

The bath was heavenly relaxation as he soaped and rinsed every inch of her body before dipping the waters in a large ladle to pour them over her hair. It had been years since a man had washed her hair. She could only close her eyes and revel in the sensation as his fingers massaged her scalp.

When all was done he offered his hand to help her from the tub, enfolding her in the warm towel to dry her, before draping the robe over her shoulders to lead her back into the bedroom.

There she found a low table, padded and covered with a fleecy blanket. Arranging her thereupon he sat behind her and slowly brushed her hair until it was nearly fully dry.

Then, easing her onto her belly he slipped the robe from her prone form leaving her fully naked before him. Kneeling beside the table he picked up the bottle of scented oil and poured a portion into his palm, warming it between his hands before setting them upon her shoulders.

His fingertips alternated between kneading her shoulders and neck before sweeping down her spine in gentle effleurage, tracing soft lines alongside her spine, then circling up her flanks in return to her shoulders. With each circle his hands moved lower across the small of her back until their lowest sweep was carrying over her hips and then back around to return upward.

In their final path his fingertips trailed down the valley of her hips and moved outward circling the soft crease at their base where thighs and hips met. With his every circle downward she relaxed ever more fully, letting her thighs part further with each touch until his fingers were sweeping the floor of the valley between her hips, rippling over her now tautly pursed and throbbing anus with each pass and tingling across the margins of her swelling labia.

She lost track of time.

She lost any sense of how many times his hands made their circle.

She only knew that each new trip brought new ripples of pleasure.

Finally he lifted his right hand away, leaving only the left… curving in soft arcs back and forth across spine, hips, anus and lower lips.

Then there came a new touch as a smaller, yet rigid touch met the margins of her tingling anus. Slowly the new instrument circled the taut ring, then lifted to return as a single point at the very center of her pink and puckered rosebud.

As his left hand continued to gently stroke her back and hips the new invader pressed inward, teasing the outer portal, then stretching her inner ring, ultimately plunging fully into her upturned and yearning ass. Each new movement brought ripples of sensation…, pleasure…, arousal… as the tip moved deep inside her. Its motions caressed the inner walls and brought new sighs of pleasure as it stroked across her g-spot through the thin inner walls.

And now a new sensation as he squeezed the bulb and the warm jet of water surged upward inside her, spreading and filling her with a fullness that was matched by the rush of warmth that descended from her own release to flow outward through her vagina.

(and still barely started)

As his left hand continued to gently stroke her back and hips the new invader pressed inward, teasing the outer portal, then stretching her inner ring, ultimately plunging fully into her upturned and yearning ass. Each new movement brought ripples of sensation…, pleasure…, arousal… as the tip moved deep inside her. Its motions caressed the inner walls and brought new sighs of pleasure as it stroked across her g-spot through the thin inner walls.

And now a new sensation as he squeezed the bulb and the warm jet of water surged upward inside her, spreading and filling her with a fullness that was matched by the rush of warmth that descended from her own release to flow outward through her vagina.

(and still barely started)

Jet by warm jet the water from the bulb filled her rectum as he alternated between massaging her back and slipping the nozzle into her anus for another four ounces of warm flood.

While the massage was heavenly, the pressure inside her built relentlessly as the waters swelled inside her. Four ounces might seem like a tiny little bit, but as four became eight, then 12 and 16, followed by each new insertion and warm stream until nearly two quarts gurgled softly inside her.

All too quickly her sighs became moans, and then gave way to a groan and a whispered, “I need to go.”

Panting through pursed lips as he stroked her back, “I need to go NOW.”

He helped her to her feet and led her yet again to the bathroom, closing the door to leave her in peace for the inevitable flood.

The first surge flooded forth in an almost orgasmic release, and then settled into gentle aftershocks as she found her fingers drawn to her lower lips, spreading them and stroking her engorged clitoris.

The yearning brought both warmth and dampness beneath her touch, and yet she paused in her fevered motions without carrying them to the logical end. Somehow it just seemed more inviting to remain on that edge of arousal and wait to see what the next chapter might hold.

He was reclining in the easy chair when the door opened. In the dim amber glow he again reveled in the wonder of her nude form.

No… she wasn’t some 20-something cover model. She was ever so much more and better than that.

Beneath the golden mane that draped over her shoulders, his eyes could trace the full curves of a woman of maturity, grace and a playful spirit. Smiling, he waved her toward the low table yet again.

“Ready for me to work on the front for a bit?”

As she relaxed there on her back he spread a fleece blanket over her and said, “just rest easy for a moment while I gather a few more things.”

As she closed her eyes she heard the water begin to run in the bathroom sink.

A bit later (had she dozed off again?) she felt the blanket lifted as he folded it down beneath her breasts.

With a new dose of massage oil he began to sweep his fingertips back and forth along her collar bones. Pressing a bit more deeply, he flexed the flat of his fingertips over her upper chest, before sweeping them downward to trace the cleavage between her full breasts, then beneath, outward and around and back up the outer flanks to glide again around the circle.

Step by step the circles grew smaller as his fingers climbed the slopes of her breasts, finally reaching their zenith as they captured her now swollen nipples between thumb and forefinger to roll them gently and tug softly upward.

Each new sensation seemed to draw still more deeply from that connection that tied the taut tension of her nipples to the growing yearning building in her pelvis. Each gently tug and twist clasped in turn at her engorged vagina and her pulsing anal ring.

Releasing her nipples he teased his hands beneath the blanket to massage her belly and her flanks in slowly descending circles that eventually began to bound across her pubic mons and ripple over the upper union of her labia.

Eventually the blanket was eased fully away and he moved to kneel between her parted thighs.

Reaching beneath he cupped her hips to knead them gently and quietly part them.

Her eyes opened as he moved to gather a new toy.

Above her on a stand hung a bulging red bag. Her gazed traced the white line of the hose downward to where it curled between her knees.

And then the press at the center of her anus called her attention as he pressed the larger nozzle inward… further… its full length buried in her bottom as the click of the clamp’s release sounded and the flood of warmth began to surge inside her.

His free hand softly circled her belly counter-clockwise, tracing the upward journey of the waters.

Then, as the bag quickly sagged to a slower, half-full pace he bent forward to kiss.

His lips nuzzled her own warm lower lips. His tongue teased to slip between and tease her still higher and then through pursed lips he drew inward, sucking her swelling clitoris into his mouth and drawing her ever closer to release even as the pressure inside her continued to build.

(mmmm… this one could be fun)

The building pressure within her belly was matched in each moment by the building wave of her nearing orgasm.

His left hand sweeping its circles over her swelling belly as his right guided the nozzle like an orchestra conductor’s baton, stroking rippling musical gasps from her throat as its tip bounded over the tender inner walls. Her clitoris, likewise, joined the rising crescendo as he suckled it deep between his lips.

With a soft slurping sound almost unheard in the chorus of her moans the bag ran dry. Two full quarts and a bit more of warmth gently rolled within her swollen bowels, swirling with the motion of his hands and lips.

Each new wave of pressure and pleasure that built within her rolled ever closer to that elusive shore….

Then, almost unbidden, the wave curled over the top and her release broke onto the shore. The building dampness of her growing arousal cascaded into a surge of sweet nectar that he lapped and suckled with eager lips. With one last catch in her labored breathing she exhaled in a sigh of nearly exhausted bliss.

His hands ceased their frenzied movements as he gently slipped the nozzle from her tautly clenched anus. She felt the new press as his fingertip stretched her ring again and softly slipped full-length inside. His lips released their grasp upon her clitoris and as he quietly nuzzled her warm and full labia he whispered, “shhh, dear one, just relax and float on the sensations for a bit.”

It WAS almost as if she was floating on the soft waves of afterglow as his tender motions eased her back down to earth.

Three minutes, then five and even ten, she coasted like a leaf descending on a cool fall breeze until the new urgency roused her thoughts from her reverie.

“Time to run, lover,” she smiled as she pressed him away and sat up.

“Why don’t you slip out of those clothes and lay back on the table. When I get back I think it’s time for me to have a turn with your little ass.”

(afterall – turnabout is fair play)

He finished disrobing while listening to the requisite sounds of a few quiet sighs, running water, flushing toilet and more running water. Soon enough he was reclined upon the low table with his eyes closed, wondering what sorts of pleasures she might share.

He didn’t stir in the silence as the last tap of the sink was closed. He didn’t stir until he heard her soft croon, “It’s so nice to see a man laying naked and ready… all nice and exposed for me.” He opened his eyes to see her leaning against the bathroom doorframe holding a refilled, bulging red bag in one hand and the long douche nozzle in the other.

Neither moved for a long moment, but just smiled and gazed at the nakedness of the other, taking in the unashamed beauty of the sensual form. Certainly they were no longer children… gravity’s influence in the passing of the years couldn’t be denied, but the warmth of an open friendship and the sensual electricity pervading the room more than smoothed over any slight wrinkles of age.

She stepped toward him with a lithe grace, rehanging the bag overhead and draping the hose over its top. “As much as I enjoy the view, dear,” she said with a with a glance at his half-erect penis and swollen testicles, “it’s time for you to roll over. It’s that tight little ass we need to take care of right now.”

He complied, resting his head upon the pillow, but almost jumped off the table when her first touch was a gentle pat upon his right hip.

“Easy there, we’re going to get REALLY well acquainted before I let you go.”

Both hands now rested upon his upturned hips as she began to knead them, each movement bringing a gentle parting as she paused to peek at the pursed pink pucker of his anus. He began to sigh quietly at her massage, then she lifted her hands to gather a bit of the massage oil from the dresser and dribble it down the cleft of his hips.

Now the massage continued, but her slick hands no longer stayed only atop, but slipped between, spreading their slick warmth down the valley between as her fingertips rippled over the margins of his anus. He moaned at her touch and then the moan became a continuous hum as her left hand parted his buttocks and her right index finger began to circle his anus.

The building wave of arousal lifted him ever higher. The lifting sense was a literal one as his penis grew to full erection and pressed beneath him. Her fingertips teased the soft base of his scrotum prompting him to spread his legs a bit. With him exposed and open before her gaze and her touch she pressed her fingertip at the center of her anus and dipped ever so slightly within.

His moan carried the barely spoken yearning of years as he arched his back to meet her touch. Slowly, but inexorably she pressed her finger until it was buried full-length in his rectum. “Just relax and let mama massage for a bit,” she whispered as her hands began to move in tandem, her right index finger pressing forward and down to find and trace the full plum of his prostate as her left hand moved to stroke his scrotum, gently grasping his testicles and tugging downward.

The waves of bliss overtook him and seemed to pulse the full length of his erection with near orgasmic sensation.

Near… but not quite. It was only pre-ejaculate that began to softly flow from him as she milked his prostate. Drawing him closer and closer to that breaking edge.

Then her motions stopped. She slipped her finger from him. The sense of loss he felt was an almost aching emptiness.

And then a new touch appeared as she pressed the nozzle against, and then through his anal ring.

It was slick with lube and quickly drove fully inside. No larger than her finger, but certainly longer and certainly capturing his attentions as she guided it in swirling motions over his inner walls.

“I think we need to fill you up a bit… maybe even a couple of times… before we fill you a bit more fully,” she whispered with a sly laugh.

And he heard the click of the clamp’s release and the flood of warmth began to surge upward inside him, her hands returning to their dual tasks of kneading his testicles through his shaved scrotum and swirling the tip of the nozzle in his expanding rectum.

With a moan of pleasure rather than protest he closed his eyes and surrendered to her control.