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Mall-ing Jo

You meet the nicest people here.
Ya gotta love Lush as you meet the most interesting people here. After about ten months here in Lush, I saw the photo of a slim, pretty woman who appeared to be in her early fifties but her profile said she was sixty. Jo’s profile shared that her husband enjoyed sharing her and putting her on exhibition for attention from other men. Her photo gallery was quite impressive and in it Jo shared photos of herself from over the years beginning in her twenties through the present. Clearly, Jo had been sexy and exhibitionistic all her life. I’ve seen a lot of photos of naked women that were taken by their husbands and in many of them the women’s faces showed embarrassment and concern as though they were tolerating the photography but not enjoying it. Or, other women looked like they were enjoying the photo shoot but their eyes showed that they were either drunk or stoned. Jo’s photos were different in that they showed the face of a happy woman, both proud of her slim body and pleased as punch about being photographed in disarmingly sexy poses.

A couple of her photos really grabbed my attention. One was a photo of Jo taken from behind and off to one side. She wore black stockings and garter belt and was about to pull a black dress over her head. Her ass was just beautiful and again her photo displayed a very happy woman. There were a number of photos where Jo’s dress was cut low enough that her pert breasts and diamond-hard nipples were in full view. There aren’t a lot of sixty year old woman who can go braless but Jo not only can, I found myself being of the opinion that she should be braless – those magnificent breasts shouldn’t be confined. The last picture that drove me wild was one of her using a dildo that was arranged with two cocks, a very thick one that was in her gorgeous pussy and a thinner one obviously designed for anal penetration was turned away from her. I found myself wishing that she’d been using all of the toy’s faculties, but still mesmerized because I have a powerful fetish for masturbating women.

From her profile I learned that Jo lives in Springfield PA about a half hour from me and I emailed her that I’d love to see those magnificent tight nipples of hers at Springfield Mall or over lunch at a nearby Italian place. I added the word “Yum” as just thinking about looking down her top at those perked nipples was putting a fluttery feeling in my chest!

Soon after, we began corresponding and we decided to meet. Playing off my first correspondence with her, Joe suggested that we meet at Springfield Mall and play out the fantasy of seeing those gorgeous tits in a fully public setting. It would be a hug to remember! This was a reasonable plan. Women should be wary of where they first meet men from the net and so a mall offers safety. Then, if I didn’t look like an axe murderer (or at least didn’t actually carry the axe into the mall) we’d hop in my car and drive over to the aforementioned Italian place for lunch and getting to know each other better.

Over lunch, I joked about not carrying an axe into the mall and from there the conversation turned to memories of Sylvia Seegrist, a mental patient who is one of the few women serial killers in the US. In 1985, Seegrist entered Springfield Mall with an automatic rifle where she killed three people and wounded seven others before a shopper disarmed her. We discussed briefly how the Springfield Mall murders paralleled similar events all over the US, most recently a Congresswoman and others in Tucson Arizona. We talked a little bit about how the mental health community needed to find better ways to screen people so as to intervene before someone loads the weapon. I started mentally kicking myself in the ass for introducing a serious and controversial subject into a fun conversation and so I shifted gears saying that we should thank God for consensual sex maniacs! Jo’s bright smile was captivating and each time she leaned forward I was treated to a view of those superb titties. I don’t want to be the kind of guy who never, or rarely, sees a woman’s face and with some effort managed to divide my attention more or less gentlemanly.

Fortunately, the restaurant wasn’t very busy and so we had pretty good privacy to carry on so intimate a conversation and we began discussing the arrangement between Jo and her husband, Dave. There are any number of women who swing, but many do so with grudging consent. Their husbands have pressured them into sex with others and the women feel compelled to comply rather than risk losing their man. It was important to me, if anything was going to happen between Jo and me, that it be a positive experience for both of us and not something that she had to do in order to keep her husband’s fetish alive. Jo flashed a smile so bright that I was drawn away from her tits for a bit, and assured me that she loved the freedom her marital arrangement afforded her, to enjoy men to whom she felt attracted. Equally important to Jo was the fact that she could say no when she wasn’t attracted to a man and Dave would accept her decision.

We finished lunch and held hands as we walked back to my car – my truck actually – as I drive a large pickup truck. I held the door for Jo as she hopped up into the passenger seat for the 5 minute ride to where her car was parked back at the mall. As she swung her legs into place Jo’s dress opened strategically and she paused for just a second allowing me full access to see that she wore nothing under that dress and that her beautiful pussy was framed by a neatly trimmed bush. I felt myself blush bright red as I looked back up and we both knew where I’d been looking so intently, but Jo just leaned forward allowing yet another glimpse of her perky tits as she kissed me on the forehead and said, Silly, if I didn’t want you to see ‘her’, I wouldn’t have shown ‘her’ to you.”

“Point taken,” I replied, and then added, “And taken gratefully.”

Walking around to the driver’s side, I found myself thinking that Jo would’ve made really good tips as a waitress flashing those tits around. I’d bet even a lot of women would be turned on by them. In the truck now, Jo sat a respectable distance from me as we drove away from the small, crowded parking lot that the restaurant shared with perhaps eight or ten small stores. During our five minute drive to the mall lot, our conversation grew more intimate and Jo put her hand on my thigh. I’m old enough that my cock didn’t immediately spring to fullness but it surely did begin firming up a bit. Jo began telling me of some of her exploits and I was becoming increasingly excited. In fact, I accidentally ran a red light and was thankful that it wasn’t one of the many intersections now equipped with cameras. The last thing I need is a ticket and I damned sure don’t need a citation coming home with a photo of me and another woman with her hand on my thigh!

Once in the mall lot, I pulled around to where the employees park figuring that doing so would offer us the privacy to continue an intimate conversation with few if any interruptions as most employees wouldn’t be leaving for several hours. Also, given the age we live in today, I spotted a space between a parked van and a Humvee that shielded my pickup from the prying eyes of mall security cameras. No sense risking that some mall weenie would capture video of us and post it on YOU-Tube like that woman from Reading PA who fell into the mall fountain while texting on her Blackberry as she walked. I really didn’t expect anything to happen with this meeting and my truck has tinted side windows but why take the chance?

As we continued our conversation I turned on the radio and quickly changed stations from the NPR I usually listen to, to an oldies station as Jo and I are only three years apart. We talked for a long time, her hand stroking my thigh and me stroking hers and sometimes tracing my finger lightly along the skin along the scoop neck just above those precious boobs that I found myself increasingly wanting to suck. We talked about music, kids, our family histories and our spouses. Mine is very straight laced and hers is anything but. We’re also physically very different as Jo is reedy thin and I’m built like an apple. If we are a couple I think people would call us Mutt and Jeff behind our backs, remembering a comic strip that ran until the early 1980’s. However we might be different it was quite evident that chemistry was kicking into gear because our conversation began moving towards whispers and our touches were gaining in intimacy.

We flipped up the two armrests between us and Jo shifted so that her back rested against the steering wheel and her arms were around my neck. We kissed – tentatively at first and then with more energy. I was enjoying our kissing immensely and felt unrushed. See, t he thing about people who were teens in the 1960’s is that there was huge social pressure for girls to remain virgins and also, the contraceptive pill hadn’t yet been invented. As a result, many girls were ‘technical virgins’ who did any and everything except intercourse. So, if kissing and heavy petting, and maybe oral sex once in awhile is all you can do, you end up being pretty damned good at it. I learned that Jo was very good at kissing. As we kissed, my hand continued stroking Jo’s thigh and I was venturing higher and higher towards the promised land. Jo’s hand soon found its way inside my zipper, and my thumb was stroking her labia.

“Jo we promised each other that we weren’t going to fuck this meeting and I’m damned sure not going to fuck you in a mall parking lot. Hell, I didn’t even bring condoms this time but I sure do want to make you want more from me.”

“Go in Baby,” Jo said between kisses and my thumb entered her very wet and extremely hot body. That was our first time together, masturbating each other in a truck like two teenagers in a lover’s lane. By the time Jo clamped her legs on my arm in orgasm I was only seconds behind and came in her hand. As we cleaned up with paper napkins leftover from my last visit to Dunkin Donuts, Jo told me, “My husband is at work. If you want to come home with me, you can and we’ll have privacy there but I’ve promised him that if I bring a man home, we’ll leave souvenirs for him to enjoy. A promise is a promise, so if you can live with that, follow me home and I’ll choose a route that takes us past a pharmacy where you can buy condoms. I like the ones that have ridges.”

“MMMMMMMmmmmmmm,” I pan and start mimicking an old potato chip commercial and trill my R’s saying R-R-Ruffles have R-R-Ridges!” Jo laughed and punched me on the arm.

Twenty minutes later we were naked in her marital bed and I was eating that gorgeous pussy. Never in my life had I been with a woman as slim as Jo and I wondered if she’d ever been with a man as round as me. As my tongue plundered her wet vagina, I found myself hearing the voice of a coworker some forty-five years ago saying, “The closer to the bone, the sweeter the meat.” Well Jo’s meat certainly was sweet and eating her was making us both crazy. When she came, Jo was ferocious! Funny, in a few of her photos, Jo looked like a church-lady but that certainly wasn‘t a church lady moaning and fucking my face!

After Jo came, I moved up because I was hopelessly fixated on the idea of suckling those man-stunning nipples of hers. I suckled them and kissed her some more and while I wasn’t sure if she was ready or not, I wanted inside that pussy. Wordlessly, I tore open the condom wrapper and Jo grabbed it from my hand. For a second I thought she wanted me to go without one but then she began rolling it onto my turgid cock. “You ready for me?” I asked with a smile.

“Just try me,” Jo replied.

Try her I did. That woman was born to fuck! Somewhere in His Heaven I think God assigned talents to people and He said, OK you be an accountant, you go be an engineer, you be a cook and to Jo He said, You go fuck men like a steam engine! I fucked her until we shifted and then she got on top and then she fucked me inside out! I wanted her to come before me but I couldn’t hold back and came with ferocity. My legs bucked, my hips pushed and my hands pulled her hips down harder on my cock as my body emptied up into the condom. It’s as if my body wanted to completely ignore the fact of my vasectomy, the condom between us and her being past menopause, my body did it’s damndest to try to impregnate Jo! She rolled off of me and I began frigging Jo with two fingers and then three. I shifted so that my tongue lashed her clitoris as my fingers pummeled her. I heard words coming from Jo. They weren’t words that I understood but I certainly got the gist and kept hammering her and my voice joined hers as I cajoled her and urged her to come. Come she did and she flooded the bed. I smiled to myself and thought that all that wetness would certainly be something for her husband to find.

“Go get me a pair of your sexiest panties,” I told Jo. She looked at me quizzically and I said, “trust me, just do it.” Jo padded off and retrieves a wispy bit of black lace from a drawer. I used them to wipe her vagina of some of its wetness and then on a whim, I took off the condom and let its contents spill out onto the panties. “What are you doing?” Jo asked.

“May I borrow these for a few days?” I asked.

“What will you do with them?” jo asked.

“Mail them to your husband,” I replied with an evil grin, searching her eyes, which twinkled when she said, “He’d like that.”

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