Many years ago, when I was at university studying for my medical degree, I would frequent a Chinese restaurant near the small apartment I was renting. It was a family-run affair and a staple of the area. It was a small, cosy place that could seat no more than fifty customers but was very popular. The menu wasn’t extensive, but every dish was superb. If you did not have a reservation for an evening sitting, you had no chance of getting a table.

Thankfully, I only ever went in between lunchtime and mid-afternoon, depending on when my lectures were over, so I pretty much had the entire place to myself.

It was during these times I got to know the owner very well. She called herself Susan. I won’t divulge her real name here for obvious reasons. Her children had grown and fled the nest, and her husband hadn’t touched her in years. He was only home occasionally, much preferring dealing with his many business interests, both local and in China.

Susan was gorgeous. Aged in her early 60s but looked in her forties, with black hair cut perfectly in a bob style. She was tall and thin, and her skin was flawless. She carried herself with an air of grace and elegance, and it was equally obvious she craved companionship and affection.

I had been a regular customer for years, so much so I had become part of the furniture. Susan and I became close. She always greeted me with the widest of smiles and joy in her eyes. She made sure she touched me in some way, a hand on my shoulder or on my cheek, and she always gave me a hug and a peck on my cheek when I left. When the restaurant was quiet, she would always sit at my table. We chatted about China, her childhood under Mao, books, music, children and grandchildren.

One Friday at the trailing end of the last semester for the year, I went to see Susan before lunch. To my surprise, there were about a dozen elderly women gathered at a table for a birthday party. When I entered, Susan was walking to their table with a chocolate cake on a platter, candles alight. She gave me a bright smile, and I took a seat in the corner. I had ordered my usual green tea and a medley of pork, beef and seafood dumplings.

Moments after a roaring chorus of “Happy Birthday” had finished, Susan was bending over my table, holding a plate with a slice of birthday cake on it. Her smiling face comes close to mine.

“Do you want it?” she asked. Her face was so close I could have kissed her rose-red lips.

Without thinking, I looked deep into her eyes and said,

“I’d rather have you instead.”

A glint appeared in her eye, and she winked as she placed the plate in front of me. She pulled slowly back, still smiling, placed her hand on my chest and let it run up to my neck and shoulder as she walked back past me towards the kitchen. Her erect nipples were evident through her white blouse. I looked back at her. She had a spring in her step and wiggled her ass. She looked over her shoulder back at me, and we smiled at each other.

When the birthday revellers departed, she sat next to me at my table. I asked her if she would consider letting me take her to dinner. She surprised me when she placed her hand on my thigh and gave it a squeeze as a gently spoken “yes” passed her lips.

My cock immediately stiffened. I was expecting her to say no, as I have seen her stare down two men making passes at her since I started frequenting the place. Someone calling her name broke the moment. She excused herself and went to the kitchen but not before squeezing my cock through my pants.

I took her to a quaint Italian bistro in Little Italy. The postcard kind of place with red and white chequered tablecloths and a candle in a used Chianti bottle covered in wax. She suggested Italian, as she did not want to risk seeing anyone she knew by going to a Chinese restaurant.

The dinner, meal and company were flawless. She was positively glowing, and it wasn’t just the red wine. When I drove her home disappointingly, I did not get an offer to come in for a coffee, but we did arrange for a walk the next day.

The walk was a continuation of dinner the night before, and what I expected to be a 45-minute meet-up became a 3-hour date. We finished with coffee when I cheekily asked her if the coffee she made at home was as good as what was served up at the restaurant. She said I can see for myself one evening.

“One evening?” I asked.

She said it would have to be evening because the next-door neighbours were family friends and nosy, and the husband was friends with her husband.

Bold as brass, I came out and told her I wanted to go to bed with her. She said she knows I do and that she would have to think about it. She asked me to be patient and told me it was difficult for her. Her husband had been the only man she had known.

One morning, three days later, she phoned and invited me to her house that evening. She told me that her gate and front door will be opened at 9.30pm. I wasn’t to park my car anywhere near the house. Just walk in quickly.

I obeyed her instructions. At 9.30 that evening, I sent a text that I was a minute away and quietly entered. She’d left the porch light off, and the hallway was in darkness.

She was waiting just inside. She closed the door and locked it. I took hold of her and hugged her. She kissed me on the cheek and led me to the lounge room.

She was shy and very nervous. She looked lovely. She had a poncho-type red woollen shawl on over a white long-sleeved blouse, a pleated black skirt, and flat black slip-on shoes. In the restaurant, she always wore slacks. For the first time I saw that she had lovely knees and calves. I could have given her a stand-up fuck on the spot, but thought it best to let her take the lead.

She sat me on one of the armchairs and offered me a drink. We sat and chatted for about thirty minutes; she, with her Bailey’s on the rocks, did most of the talking. The Bailey’s relaxed her, and she began to open up to me. Embarrassed, she said it was getting on to ten years since she’s had sex, but she had been squirming in her seat since we sat down. I asked her if she had changed her mind about tonight and that it was ok if she had. Despite my raging hard-on, I was happy to be here with her, talking. She liked that, but she said, “I want to.”

I tell her how beautiful she looks and how lucky I am. That gets a smile from her, and the glint in her eye returns as she pats the spot on the couch next to her. (The Bailey’s Irish Cream is working – god bless the Irish!)

I’m beside her in a flash. The hugging and kissing process starts. It's just on the lips, and I make a point of taking my time. Her shyness has vanished, and surprisingly, her hands start exploring before mine have moved!

She is unbuttoning my shirt, running her fingertips over my chest, and pulling gently on my chest hair. She pulls back to look and says quietly, “I like hairy chests. My husband is smooth.”

Feeling emboldened by her enthusiasm, I look at her and say, “Well, you’re going to love this then.”

I make a play of unzipping my slacks, reaching in, and pulling out my cock, which is as hard as granite. She looks at it with wide eyes, grabs hold of it and strokes it slowly while she spears her tongue into my mouth. She stands and says,

“Let’s go upstairs.”

In the bedroom, she takes off the shawl and stops to watch me strip, her eyes giving my cock that look that only women can give a cock when it’s stiff. I move to her. Her hands were motionless on the top button of her blouse all this time. I take over and start unbuttoning.

She’s just smiling at me, that cheeky smile of hers, and begins to blush. There’s no bra. Her breasts are lovely. C-cup by my estimate, perfectly formed with tiny areolas and just the hint of sag. Her nipples are large and proud. I take them into my mouth, and she gasps loudly as she hugs my head into her.

I grab her around the waist and bring her close as I move up to her mouth and start kissing. Our tongues start their dance. Her breath is short and her heart is racing, and I can feel the heat coming from her body. I move back down to her left nipple, then the right. Doing orbits of them with the tip of my tongue and taking them between my teeth ever so gently. Her moans start, and her hips start gyrating.

I unzip her skirt and let it fall to the floor. She has a bit of a sag in the midriff, but you would never think she has borne five children. His arse, however, was rounded and womanly with barely any droop. The legs are long and well sculpted, and it was only then I noticed she wasn’t wearing panties either. There is a thick bush, but it's trimmed neatly.

Together we fall onto the bed and start some lateral cuddling and the tongue tango. There is no rush, and I am making sure to take my time. While we kiss, my hands explore every inch of her body.

Between periods spent kissing her breasts or hands or stomach, I return to her face to kiss. I kiss ears, eyelids, ear lobes and foreheads. Then the neck on all sides. Susan is melting in my hands. This long-neglected lady is loving it.

My lips seek her lovely, perfumed garden. Kissing and nuzzling every inch. When my tongue tip finds the prize, the lovely bean in the forest, I tickle it with my tongue in a gentle hello. I feel her shudder and hear her intake of breath.

It’s here, in her Garden of Eden, that I spend most of my time. She peaks, raising her arse up off the bed to grind into me as she orgasms. Her juices are sweet and fill my mouth as I lap up as much of her nectar as I can. She rolls and tumbles and grabs my hair, pulling my face deeper into her. I pause, tongue hovering, then continue caressing her labia, then deep into her hole, and back to her bean. I suck on her labia and suck on her hole.

I count her orgasms and cries. At least four. (Afterwards she tells me there were more and that she lost count of the little ones.) I think I’m down there for at least thirty minutes. I just keep going despite her jerky spasms and her head locking me with her lovely thighs.

Then she whispered, “Join with me. Get in me! Gentle, please. Gentle!”

I position for missionary, and she looks up at me, smiling but frightened, bracing for entry. I start edging him in slowly, but both her hands shoot to my stomach, wincing and wanting me to stop. I dismount and return to my pants to retrieve the small tube of KY I brought with me. I smother my entire cock in KY, making sure to put an extra dab on the head.

Susan is watching this with a smile, but I’m not sure if it’s a smile of appreciation for what I’ve done to ease her discomfort or if it’s for my 9” cock.

To be sure of the right angle for good entry, I get her to lie sideways across the bed with her bum dangling on the edge. She sees my plan and giggles as she wiggles her arse to the edge. I’m off the bed, standing in a half crouch, rubbing my cock up and down her labia a few times before sliding it slowly in again, gripping her upper thighs, bringing her arse up off the bed.

Her hands hover at my stomach, ready to halt my advance. The KY has done its job, and I go effortlessly balls deep into her. Once I’m in fully, I just leave him still and look at her with a grin. I feel her cervix give way for my phallus, applying the right amount of friction to keep Susan moaning and me very interested. Susan's pussy is warm, very wet and totally enticing. The way it wrapped itself around me was extraordinary. Keeping myself deep in Susan, I start rotating my hips clockwise, then anticlockwise. Each lap my cock grinds into her bean, sending her into raptures.

After a while I start a very slow pump action. She’s wary at first but soon is in the rhythm, and the moaning starts. I keep the cadence for some time but slam into her with a harder thwack than before. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is open. She is breathing short, and her breasts are swaying in time with my motion. She is so incredibly warm and wet, and her pussy is gripping my cock, refusing to let it go.

I up the pace, and at one point she yelps, and the hands are on my stomach. I stop. She whispers, “Ok now,” and I resume. After a bit I feel her pussy tighten around my cock; she locks her ankles behind me and squeezes me like an orange as she comes again.

The look of ecstasy on her face is overwhelming, and it’s then that I go full speed. The ‘slap, thwack, slap’ is loud. The old bed is creaking and squeaking something fierce, her moans become wails, her pussy is getting smashed, and she comes again.

I am close to erupting as well, but I'm holding off, or trying to. Susan has her hands behind her knees up high, almost to her chin. Her head is back, her eyes are closed, her mouth is open, and her face is contorted. Then, in a completely unscripted moment, my abdomen tightens and I spasm as I shoot stream after stream of sweet, sticky cum deep into her pussy. She releases her knees and locks her legs behind me again when she tightens and comes again almost simultaneously with me.

She wraps me up in her arms and holds me tight as my convulsions continue. I think I shot two weeks’ worth of cum into her that night. My breathing was hard as I was fully planking her just before I unloaded.

Then I try something new. I leave my cock in her as I roll off and lie beside her to kiss and cuddle. Her lower leg nestled in that void between my ribs and my hip. My cock is still firm but has lost most of its length and girth, so I started grinding her again, hoping some part of me would manipulate her bean, and sure enough, after a few minutes, she suddenly grips me tight, grinds her groin furiously on mine and comes again… and then again… all the while wailing.

Both of us were dripping in sweat. Susan’s lipstick was smudged, her hair a mess, and her breathing coming back to normal. After a while, my cock popped out of her, and cum began leaking out. Susan put her hand over her pussy to collect my jizz, and she began rubbing it into her skin.

I lay on my back on the bed. She’s got her head on my stomach, face turned from me, looking at my cock, fondling it and kissing it. Susan loved my size and told me my cock flaccid was still bigger than her husband’s cock fully erect.

Any apprehension Susan had earlier that night was well and truly extinguished. She asked me to stay the night, and I did. She was in need of that fuck for sure, and we fucked several more times, eventually falling asleep around 3am.

The whole event was as much an awakening for me as it was a re-awakening for Susan. There’s nothing lovelier in the world than holding a lover, feeling her relax in your arms and drift off to sleep after you’ve had her. I woke with the sound of birdsong welcoming the new day, dressed, and quietly slipped out her door.

We continued for another three years until I graduated and moved to another state for my hospital residency. From that night on we met at least once a week, mostly at my apartment and occasionally at her house. The guilt of cheating on her husband haunted her at the start, but with every one of our trysts, that burden lessened.

Sadly, her husband passed away three weeks after my graduation. I attended the funeral, and we spoke quietly afterwards, where she confided to me she was sad he’d passed but wasn’t devastated. He ignored her for almost fifteen years. Theirs was a loveless marriage.

Susan and I kept in touch, and I would try to go back and see her, and each time I did our time together was simply magical, but as the years passed, we drifted further apart.

Ten years later, I was in town and drove past the restaurant to see it was closed and the building for sale. I made enquiries with nearby store owners and was told Susan was diagnosed with dementia some years prior and her family had placed her in a care facility. She passed six months prior to my return and her family, not interested in keeping the restaurant going, decided to sell the building.

I tracked down Susan’s grave. She was buried with her husband. Her picture on her headstone identical to the way she looked on our first night together. I laid a single red rose on her grave, said my goodbyes and began to quietly weep.