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A World of Color, ch. 2

Joan's world is full of color again

Joan braced herself, her hands on the headboard, as Paul pounded her pussy. Her legs wrapped around him, Joan tried to meet every powerful thrust by raising her pelvis slightly. She knew she would have trouble walking later, but the feeling was so incredible; all she wanted was more, more of his cock, more pounding. She wanted his cum. The intense look on his face told her he was close. So was she.

“Fill me, Paul!”

Joan opened her eyes. In that hazy existence between dreaming and waking, it took her a minute to realize it had been a dream. A very powerful and real dream, but a dream nonetheless. A frustrating one without release.

That morning it was all she could do to act normal, routine, even dull while seeing John off to work and their youngest child off to high school. Difficult to act dull when through the window she could see such a beautiful Spring day! When the house was empty, Joan knew nothing stood between her and her afternoon with Paul—except four hours! How to fill them? She ran upstairs and into her closet to decide what to wear. Some of her dresses were too wintery for such a beautiful day. Others too boring, too matronly.

“Really? Matronly? Is that what I have become?”

The thought horrified her. She had a couple of little black dresses, but she just could not see herself running up to the front door of Paul’s house dressed like that! Finally she settled on a colorful spring dress. Lightweight fabric, spring colors, a skirt that would fly up if she twirled. The thought made her laugh, but the image remained.

“What should I wear underneath?”

She had a sudden thought, but had to ponder for a moment to see where she had put them. She had to look in a few drawers, but finally found what she wanted. Was it too daring? Suddenly she felt very daring. More daring than she had been in years. She ran into her office and logged on to her computer. When she found Paul’s FB page, she began typing a message:
Paul, I am so looking forward to seeing you today and holding you, kissing you, and making love to you. In some ways I am looking forward to you undressing me most of all. Would you like me to wear sexy things under my skirt? Would that please you?
Joan could not believe she was talking this way, but Paul had already told her he wanted to make love to her, and Joan was definitely willing. She clicked on Send. Then waited. After about three minutes, she received Paul’s reply:
Joan, I woke up this morning full of anticipation, knowing I would get to see you and hold you, that I would kiss you all over and feel your warm flesh again. Most of all, I look forward to watching your face as I enter you. I would love seeing you in sexy things, so long as you don’t have your heart set on wearing them long.
Oh, and Joan, come now. Don’t wait.
As Joan read Paul’s message a warm glow burned inside her and she realized she was a little wet thinking about his words.

“Come now”!

Joan flew into action. A bath, shaving her legs carefully. Then she paused and decided to shave more. She would think of an explanation later, in case John asked. She dressed carefully, even stopping to twirl in front of the mirror, just in case. She smiled again at the thought and ran downstairs and out into the garage.

As she drove she sang. When she realized it, it made her laugh; she had not done that in years. It was such a beautiful day, so full of promise. A few minutes later Joan pulled her car into Paul’s driveway. Just then the garage door opened. There was room for another car, and there was Paul, waving her in. She wondered for a moment whether he normally parked in the center of the garage and slept in the center of the bed. She smiled at the thought. Not today.

She could hardly wait to shut off the car. He opened her door and kissed her when she stood. They were both hungry, kissing voraciously. Joan felt Paul’s erection pressing against her. His hand was on her ass, feeling her curves through the flimsy fabric, holding her against his hardness.

They broke the kiss and almost together said, “In the house.” Laughing together, arms around each other, they made their way into the house. Paul guided her into the living room, and once again they kissed. The kisses grew intense, passion seeming to ignite every fiber of Joan’s body. Paul moved them to the sofa to sit. The returned to kissing and soon Paul’s hands began to explore. First up and down her back, then her sides. Then he seemed to pause there.

“Paul,” she whispered, “Please touch me as you promised.”

Paul’s hand covered her breast and she moaned in delight. She leaned her head back, giving Paul access to her throat. He kissed her neck, her throat, then kissed lower on her chest. He began to unbutton her dress, kisses following closely behind. Joan held his head against her chest, her breathing more ragged. Then he stopped and kissed her mouth again. His hand left her breast as well. She missed it!

There it was! On her leg. Oh! It felt so warm and wonderful, and Joan suddenly realized how wet she was. Paul stroked her thigh, well above the hem of her dress. Joan smiled as his hand found the tops of her stockings and the garters. His hand moved from the outside of her thigh to the inside. Joan parted her legs slightly to encourage him. He stroked her inner thigh and then cupped her mound, discovering she had worn no panties! She moaned and pushed up against his hand, seeking contact and pressure. She had not felt this way in a long time!

Paul felt her shaved pussy and wanted to explore her deliciously wet folds, but Joan pushed him away. In the same motion she knelt on the floor in front of him. She pulled her dress down to her waist and removed her lace bra so he could see her as she pleasured him. She unfastened his belt, struggled a little with the pants, but finally dragged them down his legs. Boxers. Gray. Very manly. And a huge bulge! Joan leaned forward, tracing his hardness with her tongue, up and down slowly. Paul stopped breathing. Joan looked into his eyes and sucked lightly on the head, still through the fabric. Then she reached for the waistband, pulling it slowly down, freeing her treasure.

She looked down, seeing Paul for the first time in so many years. She had forgotten how large he was. For a moment she wondered, then remembered he had fit deliciously before. She licked the head. Paul groaned, a hand resting lightly on her head. Joan had not done this in so long.

“Will he like what I do? Do I even remember how?”

She reached up under his shirt to find a nipple and squeezed it as her mouth slowly swallowed his length. Paul moaned louder and writhed under her, his breath shallow and ragged. Joan slowly ascended to the tip, paused to suck and lick, then thrust him swiftly to the back of her throat. For the next couple of minutes she alternated between rapid and deep thrusts, stopping now and then to play with the head.

Paul’s hand was completely wrapped in her hair, holding her head yet not forcing her. “Joan!” he said, “I’m ...”

“Cum in my mouth, Paul.”

Joan felt his cock thicken, then begin to spasm. With a roar, Paul emptied his seed into her throat. She had not swallowed in years, had not even thought about it before this moment, but in her state of arousal it seemed the most desirable thing in the world. She wanted to taste him in every way. As the jets of his cum slowed and stopped, Joan licked his entire shaft and head. Then she rose and kissed him on the lips. Paul was obviously spent, but she knew he would recover, with her assistance, and once he did he would transport her into a world she had only dreamed of for so long. A world full of joyous explosions of color.

Please read A World of Color before reading this.

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