1. Hitchhiking to Ecstasy


    Date: 8/26/2015, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: Sisyphus, Rating: 9, Source: LushStories

    lips, loving that he sang to me. “Yes, it was in an old movie from the 40s about World War Two and lovers who meet and don’t know what tomorrow will bring.” “So what are you saying?” “I’m saying it’s time to have some soup I made this morning. Aren’t you hungry?” His answer surprised me, but I understood. He leaned down and kissed me gently and smiled. “Let’s eat and forget about your car for now. We can deal with that in the morning.” I turned my body to face him and we wrapped our arms around each other. We kissed and then I said, “I’m famished.” I quickly broke loose from his arms, hopped out of the bed and dashed into the bathroom, remnants of our cum trickling down my thigh, to clean up a little, then found my jeans and squirmed into them, not bothering about my soiled panties. I still had my black turtleneck shirt on. He did the same, slipping on his jeans. We hugged, standing in front of the wood stove. “Vicki, I didn’t want that to happen,” he said. “I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of a young woman in a tough situation.” “Are you serious? I was the one who seduced you. I made it happen. You didn’t do anything wrong. I wanted you.” “I could have stopped you. I’m old enough to be your father.” “Don t be stupid. I told you I'm old enough to know what I want and I can take care of my self. I made it happen and I'm glad I did. You were amazing.” He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead, my cheeks, my nose, my chin and then my lips. I had ...
    never felt such sweet tenderness before. He then let go and went to the refrigerator to get the pot of soup out. He put it on the stove and glanced at me. “Nothing like a nice bowl of black bean soup on a cold winter night and some home made bread.” “You bake bread?” I asked, surprised. “Yes and I like to cook. How about a glass of red wine?” “Nice,” I answered.“Sounds perfect.” I noticed several candles on a shelf near the table and placed them on the table. “How about a little candlelight,” I said, “just to add a little atmosphere.” “Great,” he answered, as he put the large round loaf of bread on the counter and started slicing. He then got a bottle of red wine and two glasses and poured the wine. He brought me a glass and we clicked glasses. “To luck!” I said. “I’ll drink to that,” he repeated and smiled, his blue eyes twinkling as he looked at me and we sipped our wine. Peter went back to the counter to get the bread, placed it on a wooden breadboard and brought it on the table, along with a small plate of butter. He put two woven placemats down, two soup spoons and a knife for the butter. He ladled the soup in our bowls, sprinkled on some graded cheese and brought it to the table. I loved watching the way he moved, humming to himself as he brought everything to the table. He seemed like a happy man who enjoyed his life. It’s hard to explain, but there was something in his relaxed, comfortable way of preparing everything and moving that was soothing. Just as he sat down the ...
«12...789...1213»