Carmen’s stare denounced a sarcasm and mockery. Despite this, the middle-aged woman inspired me so much as to feel in cloud 9. I thought I wish I’d fuck her brains out.
She let my penis go, and stood up, beginning to get ready for disembark, say, get off the plane. I could hardly conceal my hard on the moment we stood up and I saw her in her complete majesty collecting hand baggage in the upper compartment throwing her hands up to reach a her stuff.
Well, the good times were gone here, I thought, while staring at her well built body. Nonetheless, I had a new chance here as Carmen exaggerated shaking her bubble ass for me. I could notice better her compact and luscious ass. I've never been fond of matures but this woman undoubtedly was driving me crazy, hallucinated, since I first saw her at the airport. Finally, she was able to collect all of her hand baggage.
Out of the blue, her face changed to one of surprise: shocked, she put a hand to her mouth. The instant I had set my briefcase into the overhead partition, I had broken a paint she had carried on board. Of course, this incident happened because this baggage was too hidden from sight, to one corner of the compartment. Carmen got irritated and said, “You, idiot.”
She picked up her bag and left as quickly as she could. I was standing there embarrassed, confused, and awkward, not knowing what to do. My chance to fuck a mature for the first time had vanished. I picked up the paint she had left behind. A brief exam on this object denoted a cracked glass, on top of it, the frame was broken too. The portrait had been badly damaged at the center area where broken glass had hit the moment an unusual force had pressed on it.
Motionless and embarrassed by this calamity, I grabbed the package to get it off the plane, it was no mine though. The moment I got to the baggage claim, Carmen was gone. She had departed. After searching the package I found a label –tag- with her name and address on it, apart from a telephone number, passenger address and the like.
From this on, I no longer wished to fuck her, only to amend, correct my error. Of course, she was right; this had been sufficient reason to get mad as she had been carrying this fragile portrait carefully.
It decided to take the portrait myself to an art study for digital restoration –retouched. Would get it resized, mean, enlarged, also would find a frame similar to the one damaged afterwards. Finally, I’d turn it over to Carmen, fit with wrapping paper or gift paper. Oh, if I accomplished this I would be able to recover my image, not a stupid guy any more, not handing over a portrait fixed with the thin gift wrap which tears easily! I was so happy at this new finish.
It happened that the next Friday would be my day off, also a possibility to take the paint back to Carmen’s place. I thought it would be better for me if she was absent. This way, I’d talk to a different person the moment of delivery.
I rang the bell and, like a scared child, I almost run away to avoid being caught. Suddenly, the door opened for me, and there she was! The gorgeous blond I had dreamed of ever, so shiny, standing there wearing a purple shirt. An unbuttoned shirt (she had undone two buttons) showing the bottom of her breast for me, as in the plane. She was wearing a skirt that showed her tummy and navel, as well as the middle center. This made her look skinnier, with a skirt too short for a mature, only finishing half way between thighs and knees.
Certainly these were fine-looking legs! What tips did she have to make cellulite less noticeable? I wondered. Probably it was a fake-out, as she wore no socks. Her slippers made the lower part of both legs and ass standing out, projecting her ass.
“What are you doing here?” she asked arrogantly.
I replied, “Oh, humm… Mrs. Carmen… I just wished to apologize…this mishap…”
She interrupted harshly and cruelly, “How did you know I lived here?”
“Hun, your address was printed in your package tag and a receipt you left in the plane. I just want to give this package to you,” I said with trembling hands.
I handed over the paint, which she held. I noticed how her face had changed from anger to surprise. Being so large, I had to hold it for her while she unpacked it. Any man would say I’m right at encouraging all guys to surprise women this way. She gave me a wide smile in reward.
She said, “Oh, it must have been a lot of problems in doing this for me.”
I replied, “Well, I guess I ought to apologize before you. I've been so imprudent and irresponsible.”
She said in a different mood, “Come on, Marcos, is that your name, isn't it?. Help me hang up his paint, come inside!!”
I stepped in, invaded by emotion and passion.