Summary of Part 1:  A mature couple flies across the country to NYC and meets for the first time. He has just come out of the shower wearing sexy men’s underwear. She is wearing a white baby doll and has just whispered, “Let’s go to bed.”

Part II

I said, “Let’s check out the view first.”  I led Arlene to the window and opened the curtains. Dressed in her baby doll, she was hesitant, but I said, “No one can see us.”  Four flights up, that was true. We could see the street below, but unless, for some strange reason, someone on the street looked straight up, they would see little. Anyone in the apartment building across the street, unless they had binoculars, would have the same limited view.      

I stood behind Arlene. For a while, we just admired the bustling street. Then, keeping her in front of me, I wrapped my arms around Arlene’s waist. Then, I kissed her neck. Still, in front of the window, I began fondling her breasts from behind through the baby doll. There was momentary protest, but soon, my hands overwhelmed any resistance.

Emboldened, I put my hands underneath. Her breasts were close enough to the window for her nipples to stiffen.   Arlene had such nice large boobs. Call me petty, but a woman should have good boobs. Princess Diana was cute and pretty, but Fergie, with fuller body and fuller tits, was way hotter.

Arlene turned around. We kissed. There was no need to rush things. I removed her baby doll.   Her white panties were visible to anyone -- with binoculars. Her tits pressed against my chest. My own nipples liked the feeling. I gave her butt a little squeeze and led her to the bed.

Before I describe the rest of “the action,” growing old sucks, specifically, there is no evolutionary reason for a post-menopausal woman to have sex, so older women’s bodies are usually less responsive.  

Men don’t have it any easier.   Age takes its toll on men, too. Further, medication for high blood pressure, heart problems, or enlarged prostate (or sometimes all three) is common for men in their sixties. Just when you need a little extra, age and modern medicine give the man less.  

Compared to men in their father’s generation, at least now a man (and the woman in his life) has little blue pills. However, they can take ninety minutes to become fully effective.    Right before my shower, I had taken a pill.   My mind was so willing. However, as I had taken a pill less than twenty minutes before, I doubted I would rise to the occasion.  

I kissed Arlene on the lips as I played with her tits.   Then I licked the closest nipple and played with the other breast. In order to lick the other nipple, I had to get on my knees. After I had done so, Arlene reached for my dick through my tight underwear.   It felt good, but Old Glory remained unresponsive.   In a voice louder and stronger than I expected, she told me to remove my underwear, and I did so. She held my cock again, but again no liftoff. 

Naked, I lay on my side next to her.   My hand went lower. I stroked the inside of her one leg, then the other. I teased her clit through her panties, then stroked just outside her panties.   After some more teasing, I slipped my hand down her panties.

There is something so erotic about putting a hand down a woman’s panties.   You are at third base.   Going all the way is not assured, but likely.   Even though there was no evolutionary reason for her to be excited, Arlene was plenty wet.   I wondered when a man touched her last, but I was too much of a gentleman to ask.  

As erotic as a hand under the panties can be, panties get in the way and need to be removed. I helped Arlene out of hers.   Once the panties hit the floor, Arlene reflexively spread her legs.

I had teased her outer lips and clit, slowly getting closer to her womanly opening. Slowly, I worked a finger in. Even with just one finger, Arlene was virginally tight.

As I crooked my finger on her spot, I licked her nipples some more. She half-heartedly held my cock, but it chose not to respond.   I whispered in her ear, “Let it be all about you for now.”

As I fingered her, I licked her clit. Sometimes I would take my finger and tease her clit. I also took a wet finger to her nipple and licked.  

I went back onto my side and just masturbated her.   Her intensity increased, and the pace of my fingering did the same.   I stayed the course, and she came. Not a huge orgasm, more like a pre-quake. However, I wanted to give her a seven on the Richter scale. 

I moved from being by her side to going between her legs. I did the “come hither thing” with my finger. I planted my tongue on her clit.   I sped up, then slowed down, then sped up some more.   I could feel her orgasm build.  

Soon, it was no time for half-measures.   Keeping a finger inside doing the “come hither” thing, I licked more intensely and forcefully. 

Until then, Arlene had been fairly quiet, but she became unabashedly loud, mostly moans. However, just before she came, she exclaimed, “Yes! Yes!”   My face, my very wet face, was the epicenter of a very intense orgasm

I didn’t care that I wasn’t getting my rocks off.   I had made another human being very happy. For the moment, that was all that mattered. I trusted Arlene enough to know I would get my due later.

In our chats, Arlene had acknowledged that she was bi-curious. To test this, I kissed full on the lips. I think kissing a woman after going down on her is most erotic.   However, the last time I had done so, Clinton was President.   Arlene didn’t say anything about tasting her own juices, but she clearly enjoyed the kiss.

After breaking the kiss and laying on my back again. I put my hand over her pussy. I knew she was sensitive, so I just let my hand rest on her. She put her hand over mine for a moment, then moved her hand away, signaling the night was done.

We cuddled for a bit, but soon, jet lag caught up with her. She rolled away from me and promptly fell asleep.   I suddenly felt tired as well.

We both slept very, very soundly.