I felt more than heard the rustle of the sheets as she stood up next to the bed. I looked over to see her stretch, hands high above her head, the swell of her breasts more hinted at than shown, her auburn tresses halfway down her back in a tumble of curls. All this in two seconds and I could feel myself stirring already.

I recalled last night, after dinner. She aggressively tore my clothes off, dropped to her knees and damn near devoured my 50 year old cock. Seeming to know I was on the edge, she stripped, crawled onto the bed, waving her ass at me, daring me to 'come and get it'. I did, realizing as I mounted her that we were in front of a mirror and I could see her breasts swaying as she and I coupled like wild animals. After a short recovery, I surprised myself. Hard again, and very hungry I asked her to get on top. She did and leaning over me, dangled her beasts in my face as she ground herself against me. My hands and mouth were busy as we mated a second time. Long, slow, tender and deep marked this coupling in contrast to the first which had been hard and fast, assuaging our obvious hunger for each other. When done, I had flipped her over and got her off twice more with my hands and my tongue. We had been up half the night exploring and enjoying each others kinks.

I threw off the covers and followed her into the bathroom, getting hungrier as I closed the distance between us. Once inside, she stopped, allowing me to cuddle behind her. As my now rampant cock nestled between her ass cheeks and my hands closed around her ample breasts, she looked into the mirror at our reflection. "Again, Professor?" she teased.

"Again, Anneke! And why not? At my age, I should strike while the iron is hot, no?" my fingers brushed her nipples, bringing them to life.

"I don't want the iron to give you a heart attack," she smiled as her hand closed around my stiffness. Turning towards me, she put her leg on the bench in the shower. "Why don't we start slow. Perhaps with a little breakfast?"

"Subtlety never was a trait of the Irish." I said as I dropped to my knees, my eyes now level with her neatly trimmed trimmed bush.

She slapped the top of my head, then gently pulled my head into her crotch. "Boor!" she mocked. "You don't want subtle? Suck my cunt, letch."

"I thought you'd never ask!" I traced the outline of her pussylips from her clit to her pucker before plunging my tongue into her moist, clammy depths. I breathed in her scent; part woman, part faded perfume. It sent a charge to my cock, making me twitch, and dig deeper for her flavor. Or should I say, our flavor, since it had only been three hours since I had occupied the space between her creamy thighs, gazing into her green eyes as I pumped my seed deep into her young womb.

She rolled her hips, feeding me more of her "God, you're so good at this!" Her fingers combed through my hair, holding me a willing prisoner. I reached up, between her legs, slowly feeding her cunt with my fingers as my lips wrapped around her clit, my tongue swirling around the emerging nub. "Oh fuck! Don't stop!" She looked down at me. "You like doing this don't you? Making women lose control and beg for it!"

I looked up, our eyes locking, "It's what I live for." I mumbled into the warm, wet folds of her pussy.

For emphasis, I curled my fingers deep inside her, grazing her g-spot. Her grip on my hair tightened as she pulled me tighter. The pleasure/pain drove me further and I sucked her clit into my mouth, trilling against it with the tip of my tongue.

"You're gonna make me cum again!"

"That's the whole point! Youthful enthusiasm will lose to age and cunning every time!"

"Bastard! ...Don't stop!" I didn't. Plunging my fingers as deep as I could go, curling them inside, pulling them out and repeating. All the while my tongue was at work on her clit, alternating between doggy kisses and tongue flicks, praying for the moment when she would stiffen, the rictus of orgasm washing over her and rewarding me with fresh girl cum. "Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Yes! Yes! YES!"

Between her hands and her thighs I couldn't move. I was as locked into her orgasm as she was. I just drank what I could, letting the rest wash over my chin and drip onto my chest. The room was awash with the sent of her sex, as I slowly disengaged, stood, kissed her on the mouth and said, "Thank you! Now jump in the shower and clean up. You have classes to attend." I gave her a playful slap on her apple shaped rump.

I watched her in the shower, while cleaning up at the sink, resisting the urge to join her and start things all over again. She didn't make it easy, soaping herself up, paying particular attention to her breasts, running her fingers around her nipples, knowing I was paying full attention. Then she took the soap and began washing between her legs, taking her time.

To get my mind off her, I thought about yesterday afternoon at my book signing. It was nearing four o'clock and the ordeal was almost over. I had agreed to the chore at the behest of my old college roommate who had invited me to guest lecture at the college here in town where he taught. He also thought it would be neat to promote my latest book, so here I was, mindlessly signing books for students.

Opening a copy of my book, preparing the page, I looked up. There she was. A tall, pretty, busty, redhead with an infectious smile that I returned. "How shall I make this out?" I asked. Silence. "Your name, young lady?"

"Oh. Anneke, Professor."

"Anneke Professor. That's a great name for a college student."

She looked at me, a little confused at first. Seeing the gleam in my eye, she understood that I was pulling her leg. "That's Anneke comma professor! Anneke McInerney"

I scribbled a nice note in her book and we talked for a minute or two. Then she pulled out a scrap of paper scribbled on it and handed it to me. It said, "Maybe I could sign your book over coffee?" and had her cell phone number.

Needless to say, I did call her and we ended up in my hotel room all night. As a widower, I've had plenty of opportunities with women; some students, some faculty, some complete strangers, some more than once. Anneke seemed different, somehow. I couldn't put my finger on it but there was an instant connection, especially on the physical level. I thought to myself; I'd like to take this further.

With a kiss on the cheek, she exited my room and I got ready for my guest lecture. Arriving a few minutes before the start, I was greeted by my college roommate, Bill. We exchanged pleasantries, catching up on what had happened in our lives since we met last. He had remarried a year ago, after his wife of thirty some years had run off with another guy. "Oh, and there's someone I'd like you to meet," he said.

"And who would that be?"

"This is my step-daughter, Anneke."