I doubted Mason and I would have ever gotten together if he hadn't beaten me at trivia night. Trivia nights at the bar were something I looked forward to since I'd retired early several years ago. I'd spent countless hours of my life reading and figured I should try to apply that knowledge somehow. At fifty-eight, I enjoyed competing against the younger, cockier players who showed up at the bar on Thursday nights.

Mason was indeed younger; I guessed he was almost thirty. But he wasn't cocky. I'd taken him on before and defeated him soundly. On this particular night, however, I was not at my best. Again and again, Mason proved to be more knowledgeable. The loss was a little humiliating, but Mason turned out to be a gracious winner, making his way over to me afterward. "Good game, June," he said. "You kept me on my toes."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, right. We both know I sucked tonight, but I can promise you won't be so lucky next time."

Mason smiled. "I definitely won't rest on my laurels. How about I buy you a drink?"

I raised my eyebrows. Mason had always been friendly but not overly so. He came alone to the bar, just as I did. "A Bourbon and Ginger for me, thanks," I said. Mason ordered a Vodka Collins for himself. The bar counter was a little too crowded for my taste, so he and I headed to a small table. "Seriously, I'm impressed by how much you know," I told Mason as he sipped his drink. "I have decades on you, and some of those questions stumped me tonight."

Mason shrugged. "I guess that's what comes from being shy and awkward. When I was growing up and found it hard to make friends, books served as an escape, so I read all the time. Now, it turns out I prefer books to people," he said. "Well, most people."

I tilted my head, studying him. "You don't strike me as shy and awkward. Not tonight, at least."

"That's because I feel comfortable around you, June."

"You hardly know me," I pointed out.

Mason looked down at his drink, and I swore I saw him blushing a little. "I'm hoping to change that."

I tried to hide my surprise. If I didn't know better, I would have thought he was flirting with me. Now that I was almost sixty, I wasn't often approached by men my own age. To young men like Mason, I was practically invisible. My long hair, while still thick, was mostly gray. I decided after my divorce a few years ago that I couldn't be bothered with dyeing it anymore. I also had plenty of the wrinkles and sags that came along with growing older. Since menopause, I had to be extra careful about what I ate, for I was no longer slender. Though I was comfortable with my looks as an older woman, I was also realistic. There would be no Botox or tummy tucks for me.

Tonight, I wore jeans and a T-shirt. Definitely not an outfit men would consider alluring. Mason was still dressed in business casual.

"So why is it you feel comfortable with me?" I asked him. I found I liked his smile. It was sweet, without a hint of arrogance. He wore his sandy blond hair in a neat cut. His build was lean but not muscular, and behind his glasses, his eyes were full of warmth.

"You're kind," he said. "I don't feel like you're going to brush me off if I approach you to say hello."

I gave him a puzzled look. "Of course I wouldn't."

"I know you wouldn't, but women my age? It's hard to get to know them in a way that's real. These days, with everybody online, and people quickly swiping left or right, first impressions aren't just important. They're everything." Mason let out a heavy sigh. "It takes just seconds for people to decide whether you're funny enough, or successful enough, or if you look good enough."

I couldn't help but grimace while also feeling relieved that I no longer had any interest in dating. "Sounds pretty bleak."

"It's brutal," Mason said. "And I don't have all that much going for me, anyway."

"That's nonsense!" Without thinking, I reached across the table and gave his hand a reassuring pat. "You're incredibly smart, and my impression of you while we've talked tonight is that you're a kind, likable person. You're a good-looking young man, too."

Mason's face brightened. "You think so?"

"Well, yes." I didn't want Mason to think I was hitting on him, so I sat back in my chair, putting more distance between us. He continued beaming while I took several sips of my drink.

"Soo..." he said, his smile growing playful, "Considering all that, would you be interested in spending time with me outside of this place?"

My eyes widened a little. He was flirting with me! Or trying to get laid, more likely. "How old are you, Mason?"

His smile only grew. "I'm twenty-eight, June."

"I'm thirty years older than you."

"So?" Mason leaned closer. "That shouldn't stop us from enjoying each other's company."

I tried not to roll my eyes, but it was difficult to hide my exasperation. "I'm not fucking you," I said. 

His smile slipped a little, and I felt a twinge of guilt for using such a harsh tone. Yet he pressed on. As he spoke, his cheeks flushed. "That wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

"No?" I drained my glass and set it before me. "What did you have in mind?"

Mason was obviously nervous, straightening his glasses and then tugging at his shirt collar. He quickly looked around before meeting my stare once again. "I want you to sit on my face," he said, his voice barely audible above the noise of the bar.

My mouth dropped open. At first, I couldn't believe he was serious, but when his eyes took on a pleading look, I realized he wasn't joking. I also realized my body had immediately responded to his words. Since my divorce, I hadn't even been on a date, much less fooled around with anyone. To say I was having a sexual dry spell would be a huge understatement. I masturbated often in an attempt to satisfy my urge, but it wasn't the same. Now, this much younger man was practically begging me to sit on his face. Beneath my shirt, my nipples hardened, and I felt a subtle but insistent ache between my thighs, almost painful in its need to be satisfied. There was no denying it: I was horny as hell. I was also attracted to Mason. Maybe a big part of it was because he understood from the start that I had the upper hand.

Before I could change my mind, I said, "Let's go to my place."

Mason blinked at me, appearing a bit stunned. He'd obviously been expecting a rejection. Then he grinned. "I'll follow you in my car."

It didn't take long for us to arrive at my house. While I unlocked the front door to let us inside, I kept worrying I'd made a mistake. If Mason and I discovered we weren't really attracted to each other, after all, trivia nights were going to be awkward as hell in the future. When we stepped into the living room, Mason looked around and said, "You have a lovely home, June."

"Thanks." After we set our stuff down on the table, I turned to Mason with a nervous smile. "I guess I should show you the bedroom next."

"Um, before we get started," he spoke in a rush, "I just want to say that while I love doing this, I'm not all that experienced. So I hope you'll tell me what you like and what you don't."

"Mason." I reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'll be happy to tell you what feels good, but I don't want you to be anxious with me, okay?"

He cleared his throat, keeping his stare fixed on our hands clasped together. "I just don't want to disappoint you, June."

"You won't," I assured him. "Now come with me." I led him down the hall to my bedroom, where I turned on a single lamp. Mason took a deep breath, then let it out slowly before turning to me. His smile was more relaxed now, even eager. As he removed his glasses and placed them on the nightstand, I nodded toward the half bath which adjoined the bedroom. "I need to go freshen up."

"Please don't," Mason said. Seeing my confused expression, he hurried on. "It's just that I, um, would prefer it if you don't wash away your natural scent."

Now that was unexpected. In the past, I'd always insisted on being as clean as possible before a partner went down on me. My former husband liked to tease me about my lack of spontaneity. But Mason was requesting I do the exact opposite of my normal routine. Looking down, I noticed the outline of his erection beneath his dress pants. We'd barely touched, and he was already hard for me. While I was pleased to see him so aroused, I wanted to avoid any uncomfortable surprises.

"Just so you know," I told him, folding my arms over my chest, "I actually have pubic hair, unlike a lot of women your age." I thought he might change his mind about me freshening up if he was aware of that.

Mason only grinned and said, "All the better."

While he unbuttoned his shirt, I remained still, trying to shake off my insecurities. He must have sensed my hesitation, for he lifted his head to meet my gaze. "Everything okay, June?" I started to tell him this probably wasn't a good idea, but he looked so hopeful then. And despite my reservations, I was still horny. So I simply nodded and began undressing as well.

Mason didn't ogle me while I took off my shirt and jeans, but I sneaked plenty of glances at him. He had a surprising amount of body hair, which I loved. His cock, fully erect, wasn't all that thick, but I guessed it was around six inches long. His balls were the perfect size for sucking, a nice mouthful. I noticed he neatly folded each item of clothing he removed, and I found the habit endearing.

When he looked up at me again, his stare homed in on my chest. Since I'd put on some weight post-menopause, my already ample breasts were now even larger. Part of me wanted to leave my bra on; without it, my tits were pendulous, the nipples pointing downward. But Mason appeared enraptured by my cleavage, and I sensed how much he desired to see more. I removed the bra without fanfare. Mason's cock jumped at the sight of my naked breasts, which made me grin.

My underwear came off last. Despite my excitement, I no longer got as wet as I did when I was younger, but that certainly wouldn't stop me from enjoying Mason's mouth. "You're gorgeous, June," he whispered. His hot stare let me know he meant what he said.

I closed the distance between us, sliding my palms over his chest. I liked gazing up at him and seeing the abject need in his eyes. When I moved my hand lower, wrapping my fingers around his cock to give him a stroke, he sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Sorry, I'm just really excited," he said. "This is a fantasy come true for me."

"So you're ready for me to sit on your face?" I asked, my tone playful.

"Oh, fuck yes!" he groaned. I decided I wanted to tease him a little. Placing a hand between my thighs, I rubbed my clit. Mason's stare followed every movement. "June, please..."

I moaned while touching myself. When I brought two wet fingers to his mouth, he immediately took them between his lips, sucking eagerly. "Lie down," I told him.

Mason hurried to do as I said. I expected him to rest his head on one of the pillows, but he instead moved it aside so he was flat on his back. Having this sweet, attractive man laid out before me banished my inhibitions. After climbing on the bed, I straddled his thighs and slowly moved upward. He released a whimper when my pussy grazed his cockhead. I finally placed a knee on either side of his head, and he licked his lips in anticipation, then grasped my hips.

"You know, I don't have to sit on your face," I said. "You can still go down on me."

"I want you to," he insisted, his voice growing urgent. "Women I've been with in the past didn't understand, and they weren't really into it. But June, I love being smothered by a pussy, and I also love having a woman's thighs tight around me, covering my ears. It's a kind of sensory deprivation; it frees me to relax and take total pleasure in eating you out." His eyes locked with mine, and I realized how different he looked in the grip of lust. "I want you to use me, June," he said. Then he pulled me down onto his face.

The sensation of being pressed so firmly against him made me moan. I'd straddled my ex-husband's face before, but I was always careful to leave a little space between us. Mason, however, clearly didn't want that. With his own loud groan, he began licking my clit. "Mason!" I cried. He'd said he wasn't experienced at this, but his tongue expertly provided pleasure. He didn't use a single rhythm or technique, instead varying his speed and motions until my hips rocked with their own steady rhythm.

When I finally lifted myself off Mason's face, he gasped for breath. "Fuck, you taste so good!" he practically growled just before pulling me back down again.

I'd never considered myself a dominant person, but I now couldn't resist the urge to weave my fingers through Mason's hair, holding him fast while I rode his face. His groans let me know how much it excited him. "That's it! Lick my pussy!" I ordered. My God, he already had my thighs shaking! I was desperate for an orgasm, but I made myself move from his mouth again so he could breathe.

Mason took in big gulps of air, then begged, "More, June!" His cheeks were flushed a deep red, and his lips glistened with my juices.

I bore down on him this time, gripping his hair. "Suck my clit! Harder!" I demanded. As arousing as Mason's eager mouth was, being able to control him was even more so. I never imagined I would enjoy it so much! With his lips wrapped around my clit, Mason fervently sucked while flicking the tip of his tongue against it. I was so close, trembling all over, but I knew it was time for another break. When I tried to move away, however, Mason grabbed me tighter. "Mason, wait! You have to take a breath!"

He made a muffled sound of refusal, his lips and tongue never stopping. My clit was exquisitely stimulated by this point, and despite my anxiety about remaining on Mason's face, I couldn't hold back the building orgasm. "Oh my God!" I wailed. Mason's licking and sucking grew even more frenzied until I spasmed and clenched my thighs around him even harder. His fingertips dug into my skin, but that hint of pain only fueled my ecstasy.

When I couldn't bear anymore, I managed to wrench free of Mason's grasp. He greedily drew in a lungful of air. "Enough!" I said through my own heavy breathing. My body still quaked.

"Please, June, don't stop yet!" Mason's hair was tousled, and his eyes looked wild.

I grabbed his chin. "Then do not disobey me when I say you need to take a break. Do you understand?"

"Yes!" he panted. "I'm sorry I didn't listen earlier, but I'll do anything for more of your pussy!"

What woman could deny herself that? Not this woman. Again I settled onto his face. My clit, swollen and throbbing, readily responded to his tongue. "Yes, yes, lick my clit, you little slut!" I demanded. I actually felt Mason's entire body strain beneath me. It made me wonder if he could come from this alone. "Mmm, you love eating my pussy, don't you?"

Mason made enthusiastic noises in reply. I knew he would pass out before signaling he needed air, so I kept track of the time on my own. As I let him bring me right to the brink of climax and then lifted off his face, I realized I loved edging in this way. As soon as Mason caught his breath, I lowered myself onto him again.

With a few more thrusts of my hips, I slid my pussy over Mason's tongue and came yet again, bearing down on him as I screamed, "Mason, oh fuck!" The contractions coursed through me, making my pussy muscles clench. Then the intensity suddenly became too much, and I hurried to slide off of him. Both of us were panting by that point.

I noticed Mason's cock looked painfully hard. Though my clit was overstimulated, my cunt was desperate to be filled, so I again straddled Mason's thighs. His eyes widened when I took hold of his dick. "June, please, I can't! I'm too close already!" he whimpered.

I only laughed. "Beg all you want, but this cock is mine tonight, and I'm putting it to good use."

We both let out loud groans as I took every inch. I immediately started riding him with a force that made my tits sway. His expression grew almost pained. "Ah, Christ, I'm gonna come!" He tore his gaze from my pussy so he could give me a pleading look. "I'm sorry--I can't last!"

"That's okay," I assured him, never slowing my pace. "Your tongue certainly lasted. Come inside me, Mason!"

That was all it took to summon his orgasm. He shouted as he came, and I moaned with my own pleasure. It had been a long time since a man had filled me with his cum. I could tell Mason had a big load for me! Squeezing my muscles around his cock, I was determined to milk him dry. "June!" he cried, then grunted as yet another fierce shudder traveled through him.

When he was finally spent, I eased off of him and lay at his side. He quickly took me in his arms. "That was fucking incredible!" he said.

"Some of the best sex I've ever had," I told him with a grin.

Mason lifted his head to gaze down at me. "Really? But I lasted less than a minute."

"Doesn't matter. You'd already made sure to satisfy me, and I enjoyed satisfying you."

His stare drifted to my breasts. His smile was almost shy as he said, "Do you mind if I, um, have a little fun with those?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Go ahead, sweetheart."

Mason pressed his face against my breasts. While I held him close, he circled his lips around my nipple. Faint cries escaped me as he eagerly sucked. Breathing in, I smelled my scent all over him. Mason's eyelids grew heavy when I began stroking his hair. I thought he might drift off to sleep with my nipple in his mouth, but he eventually lifted his head and gave me one of those sweet smiles. "Can I kiss you, June?"

"Of course," I whispered. Mason lowered his lips to mine, and I discovered he was a good kisser. At first, he was gentle and tender, but it didn't take long for the kiss to deepen. When his tongue met mine, I was vividly reminded of the bliss he'd given me by licking my clit.

I finally, reluctantly, broke the kiss, and Mason caressed my cheek. I recognized the infatuation in his stare, and I wondered if he could see it in mine. At fifty-eight, I was smitten. Taking his hand, I grinned and said, "If this is my consolation prize for losing at trivia night, I'm going to let you win every time."