Chrissie has left again. Just short of twenty-four hours this visit. I'm taking the bed linen off the mattress, pillows and duvet.

On the pillow cover, I spot smudges of mascara. And vermillion lipstick. And her pearly cream foundation. I hold it close to my face and inhale her perfume. Her face had been pressed into the pillow as she presented her plump and shapely arse to me, spreading her cheeks with elegantly manicured hands.

How, I ask myself in all incredulity, did I come to have this gorgeous woman come to visit me? We were total strangers until the moment in the departure gate queue when she stumbled. I think she caught the slender high heel of an elegant shoe in her cabin luggage. I reached out and held her arm, steadying her, preventing her fall.

~~~

As I pull the sheet off the mattress I notice the stains. Body oil that she brought from Marrakech, that I had, at her urging, massaged into the firm, full rounds of her arse cheeks. And the back of her narrow waist.

As she recovered from the stumble, she had gripped my shoulder briefly. "Thank you so much!" she said softly. Her eyes flickered for a fraction of a second to where her hand touched my shoulder. She squeezed fleetingly, "strong," she whispered. East Coast educated American accent, I remember noting.

~~~

I noticed more stains on the sheet; fruit scented lube.

"Use this to finger my ass hole, to get me ready for your cock." Yes, I recall her saying exactly that, but was it before or after Chrissie had used it to lubricate my own arsehole and insert her finger into my bum?

"You'll love it," she'd assured me, wanking me fast. As the full length of her finger entered my anus and wriggled in my rectum, I shot the biggest stream of spunk I'd ever ejaculated up to my chin. The second spurt she directed onto her tits. The intensity of the accompanying orgasm was the greatest I'd ever experienced!

As she eased her finger out of my arsehole, Chrissie licked the cum off my chest, throat and chin and massaged in what was on her tits. She was highly amused by my reaction!

~~~

We boarded the plane and sat many rows apart. It was only at the baggage carousel that I caught sight of her. I wasn't the only one looking at her. Men and boys were either ogling openly or surreptitiously watching. Women looked too, either threatened and disapproving, or in ill-disguised admiration, even with a few glances of frank lust. That's the effect Chrissie had on a baggage reclaim hall.

~~~

There are other stains. The body lotion from a high-class hotel that had allowed my cock to glide so smoothly between her tits as she squeezed them together. And indeterminate stains. I sniff one; it's surely that gush of cunt juice when she came the first time on my tongue and fingers. I'd obviously not lapped quite all of it up.

~~~

As we waited for our luggage, Chrissie walked over to me, smiled and handed me her business card. "Thank you for your steady hand back there. Give me a call. I'll be back in England in a week or so." And she winked, turned on her elegantly heeled legs, sashaying away from me. What a walk! She carried her full hourglass figure with a kind of electrifying sexual confidence. I hadn't had time to introduce myself.

~~~

I see another stain on the sheets; unmistakeable dried spunk. That must have been from the anal creampie as it was mixed with lube.

"Jeez, I love my ass fingered! Fuck your finger in n' out; yeah like that! Then slip another finger in, I'll soon be ready for your cock!"

My previous experience of anal was tentative probing with willing but apprehensive and inexperienced girls. But now, decades on, my rock hard cock was being welcomed into this glorious woman's ass with enthusiasm! As I sank my length into her she frigged away at her clit.

It was obvious neither of us would be long in climaxing. Her anal sphincter gripped my cock as she and I came. My neighbours must surely have heard her growls and howls and my bellowing! A moment later I felt my cock slip out and saw the hot gush of my spunk flow from her dilated arse hole.

~~~

A week after my encounter with Chrissie and I'm back in Britain. Looking at her card. Remembering her full, hourglass figure, her perfume, the way she swung her hips and booty when she walked. There was nothing for it but to try her phone number! I was very nervous calling. "Christina O*****a, followed by initials of several qualifications, Consulting Materials Engineer," said the card.

~~~

As I stand naked by the washing machine in my kitchen with an armful of bedding in rather an erotic reverie, I realise my cock is rising and thickening. I recall her compliment; "Mm, impressive girth, Alan!" It doesn't take long for my erection to reach full stiffness and I'm wanking with the bedding, rubbing my cock head into the scented stains. Outside the kitchen window, rain and wind toss the great trees that shelter the house from westerly gales.

I'm tossing and shaking too, finding a spot where the fabric is softened and slippy from lube and body lotion, so I wank away, eyes closed, remembering her luscious African American lips on my cock, drawing me into her throat. I add another squirt or two of spunk to the sheet. Was it the fourth or fifth cum in the past twenty-four hours? 'Life in the old dog yet!' I think with a smile.