Mrs. Gordon's Bridge Club

This story is fiction, although it is based on real happenings and real people.

*****

I used to hang out with a cousin when I was around 19 or 20. His mother my Aunt, was part of the upper middle class socially. Not hard to be in a small town. She held regular afternoon sociable bridge parties inviting other women considered to be her equal in the community. The ladies would arrive immaculately dressed and coifed, full makeup, nylon stockings and high heels and perfumed, none of them wishing to be outshone by the others.

The women were in there forties to early fifties and I thought them beautiful and desirable. My overactive mind pictured them in their undergarments; garter belts, lace trimmed panties and bras, just like in the catalogues of the time. Despite the visions coursing through my mind I never thought of them as ever having erotic fantasies of their own.

As I grew older I was fortunate enough to enjoy the favors of older women. I grew to appreciate that erotic thought had probably been as much a part of my Aunt's friends as it was of the male of the species. I suspect however, given the times, that it would not have been a subject for chat during those bridge parties of long ago.

Times changed and women gained the freedom to explore sex more openly. TV and movies became more explicit, rock stars appeared in silk pants displaying long dongs, porn videos were readily available and all manners of taboo sex were on display if one was interested in seeking it. Women discovered that they could even 'talk about it'.

The recognition of this change became even more apparent when I first made contributions to 'Literotica' a few years back. I received comments about my stories from a Ladies Club that met regularly to discuss sex, read sex stories and to write erotic tales of their own. I believe that there were six of them and in the same age range as those in my Aunt's group had been. They did not mention bridge. They thought my stories were arousing and often commented favorably. We exchanged Emails and stories on a fairly regular basis for some time. They used the term 'squishy' quite often in their letters to describe what they particularly liked about my writing style. Some of their stories made me blush.

Following is a tale of a group of women of similar age and older but set in a more current time frame. These ladies had been young when the remnants of Victorian mores were still prevalent and had been gradually set free by societal changes.

I suppose it is my version of praise to older women.

Mrs. Gordon's Bridge Party

The young man entered the back door of a nicely appointed home in an upscale neighborhood. He walked confidently into the kitchen and placed his burden, two pizza's, in the fridge.

He quietly climbed a stairway to the upper floor, the soft chatter of some women emanating from a parlor at the front of the house helping to cover any sound that he might make. He entered a bedroom door at the end of a hallway towards the back of the house.

A woman was sitting on a padded bench combing her hair in front of a vanity and glanced nervously at his mirror image as he approached from behind. She was wearing a loose gown of pale yellow sheer linen tied at the back her neck, tight enough to support a pair of pendulous breasts. As the young man approached her from behind his mouth watered at the sight of her brown nipples poking through the fine cloth.

She might have seemed nervous but in fact she was really bolder than the other ladies that he had met here, who had been in the bed covered with a sheet or blanket. All had understood exactly why they were meeting.

Jim, the young man, moved close to her as the woman gazed upwards at him in the mirror from her sitting position, "Mrs. Leathley I presume" he smiled down at her, "my name is Jim." She appeared to be about 55, more or less the average age of the other ladies. She was attractive in a quiet sort of manner, her build generally on the heavy side but nicely proportioned. She was a fine looking woman.

The woman giggled a bit, "Oh God, call me Dorothy, I don't want you to be too formal doing what we plan to do. You're so young, I have seen some photo's of you which made you look a little older."

Jim smiled down as his hands softly caressed the back of her neck and shoulders. "You are nervous, please don't be, nothing will happen here that you don't want to happen. You can stop me at any time if you wish." He waited a few seconds and finished with, "Well, almost any time, don't leave it too long once we start." They both laughed a little, minds suddenly imagining that point where too late would involve a withdrawal.

'Oh God,' thought Dorothy, 'this is really going to happen'.

Their eyes locked on each other's as he moved his hands down in front of her and hefted her breasts, cupping and caressing them before capturing her nipples between his fingers. Dorothy closed her eyes and amasya escort bit her lip, breathless at the expectation of what would follow. She turned her head upwards as he bent down, there lips met softly as he deftly untied the knot behind her neck and allowed the top of the gown to tumble down in front of her, baring her breasts.

His tongue darted into her mouth; she sucked it as his burning hands closed around her breasts. She opened her mouth wider as he squeezed and tugged at her nipples. She was already in a total surrender mode. They lingered in that position, as if searching for more of they knew not what, but knowing that whatever it would be would be pleasurable.

Jim lifted her to her feet and stood behind her. They watched in the mirror as the gown slithered down to the floor to reveal her totally naked body. "Very beautiful," Jim murmured as he pushed the stool to one side and moved in tight behind Dorothy. She could feel his hard bone pressed between her cheeks, he sliding it up and down slowly as his hands roamed from her breasts, down her sides to her hips and then back up her belly to grasp her breasts once more. A thin trimmed strip of gray speckled black bush decorated her prominent mound. He massaged it with two fingers, as Dorothy subconsciously spread her legs. One finger slid in along her wet slit and then was slowly eased back forth before being pulled out.

He turned her to face him, "You are very desirable, I want to make love to you. Undress me," he ordered. It came out as something stronger than a request and Dorothy quickly responded.

She pulled his shirt up over his head to expose his hard young chest and thick arms. God, she had never been this close to a young man since college. She frantically found his belt buckle and fly button and tore them open before pushing his slacks to the floor, her face brushing the bulge in his shorts as she straightened up. She moved closer to him, almost passing out as her breasts pressed against his bulging pectorals, his sparse chest hairs tickled her nipples.

He pressed forward, rubbing his hard shaft on her hip and belly and whispered, "More to do Dorothy, your prize awaits you." They came together; Dorothy's mouth was wide open as he plunged his tongue into it. She felt as if she was being attacked and responded with her own offense, thrusting her hands down inside the back of his shorts to dig her nails into his hard butt, scratching mindlessly while pulling him tight to her, rubbing and grinding her mound on his rock hard cock.

Jim pulled back a bit to allow Dorothy to force his shorts down over his bulging thighs, kissing her way down his chest and belly until she felt his cock spring out and rub on her throat and cheek. She lingered there as she pulled the shorts off his ankles and feet, her face brushing and rubbing on his privates. She kissed his cock just as he pulled her up along his body, pausing deliciously as her tits rubbed against his stiff shaft. They kissed and sucked with mounting passion as their bodies meshed together as one.

Dorothy was in another world, a world that she had not been in since her wedding night, many years ago. It was glorious, the feel of a young man's body, hands and stiff cock rubbing on her and wanting her, she transported into a state of euphoria she had no longer believed possible.

She was ready, or thought she was, but Jim preferred to have his mate fully aroused and continued the foreplay. He slipped his hand between her legs, spreading her to allow his fingers to grasp her pussy lips, grind and rub them together while sliding his fingers back and forth along her sticky slit.

"Jim," she moaned, "no more, take me to the bed, I'll come soon if you are not careful."

"Come when you want Dorothy, don't hold back, just let it go. I'll fuck you anyway." His fingers still busy in her pussy, he rubbed his face between her tits, finally capturing a hard nipple between his lips. He sucked hard in response to Dorothy's reaction and grazed his teeth over the nipple as if threatening to nip it. Dorothy gasped and pulled it from his lips to stuff the other one in, "Bite if you want, my God," she moaned. She almost got off when he did just that.

He raised one of her legs up on the stool, she clutching to him to keep from falling, and he ran his hard cock between her legs, the knob gouging between her slippery lips as if scooping ice cream with a spoon. He slid it back and forth along her slit, Dorothy crying out with the anticipation of him driving it into her with each probe.

Jim suddenly lifted all 150 pounds of Dorothy and laid her crosswise on the bed, her feet on the floor. She raised and spread her legs as he moved between them. She clamped her knees on his hips as he looked down at the red gash of her pussy, her swollen clit poking out from the swollen lips. The young stud rubbed and teased her lips and clit with the velvet covered hardness of his knob. Dorothy wanted amasyaescort.com more and she wanted it now and reached down to wrap her fingers around the thick shaft and proceeded to jerk him off in order to further inflame him. He glared down at her, horny not angry, and began to work his hard shaft into her with short sharp jabs. She used her hands and feet to pull him to her, suddenly feeling the base of his cock grinding her pussy lips as his balls tickled her cheeks.

Dorothy got off before he had finished his third thrust, arching her back upwards, her heels hooked behind his thighs and her nails digging into his ass. She vibrated and shook as Jim fucked her. As her orgasm subsided, he pushed her backward on the bed, climbing up with his knees planted between her legs. Dorothy was in total submission, her legs flattened out each side of his body. He lifted her butt upwards and re-entered her pussy as he lowered his upper body down over her, his hips acting like a pile driver pounding and pounding her. His chest ground her tits and their mouths engaged. Soon Dorothy was back in synch with him, encircling him with her arms and legs as she felt the power of his explosive thighs driving his cock into her without stop. She opened to him with each thrust but then clamped her pussy down hard on his shaft as he pulled back, holding tight until his next re-entry, forcing him to push hard.

In the parlor below, five ladies sat mesmerized and quiet, listening to the sound of the bed banging against the wall upstairs. One lady, Stella by name whispered, "Damn Jean, you should cushion that bedstead."

Jean, the owner of the home and host of this weekly bridge party grinned and said, "Why? It let's us know when the party is almost over doesn't it? And it is very suggestive. Dorothy listened to you being getting it last time, don't you want some payback?"

Stella responded, "I'm jealous is all. I'm picturing that young stallion screwing our good friend. It's glorious is what it is, we old broads having our day. I want seconds!"

This regular event was the result of Jean, the host, forming a group for afternoons of bridge. She was a widow whose husband had left her comfortably off financially and who had remained in the neighborhood following his death. The ladies were friends of hers from years past, a mixture of widowed, divorced and still married women of roughly her age.

The group had been somewhat larger in the beginning with as many as 12 ladies coming for bridge, chatter, tea and crumpets. At some point the 'after bridge' part of the afternoon came to include erotic stories, porn videos, and wine instead of tea. Some women were not comfortable with the erotic evolvement and the group thinned out to 8 or so and then the number bottomed out at 6.

These remaining gals were both curious and enthusiastic about the erotic chatter and porn videos. They were all invited each week and adjusted the game of bridge according to the number appearing. It was a bag of fun and it was an unusual day when they did not all show up.

The involvement of the young stud Jim had occurred much by chance. One afternoon one of the ladies had provided a porn video of a younger man screwing two grannies. It obviously had an impact on this particular group and the chatter following focused on their experiences or fantasies about similar situations, it intrigued them all. Another bottle of wine soon loosened tongues even more and confessions of interest flowed freely.

Comments ranged from, 'what ever would you talk about' to 'I have a nephew I would love to be alone with' to 'I almost let a male stripper screw me' to other expressions of interest and curiosity.

The host Jean, suddenly blurted out, "I've done it, had a young stud that is, and I do it every chance I get."

There was a short silence as her friends processed the outburst, followed by a flood of questions, "Who is he? Where do you meet him? How did it happen? Tell us, you have to tell us."

Jean was anxious to keep this train of thought going, enjoying the thrill of erotic thoughts exciting both her and her friends and after a few minutes consideration settled back to tell her story.

"A few months back I ordered a pizza for dinner. I seldom do that but for some reason decided I was not going to cook dinner that night. The deliveryman was a young guy, probably about 21 or so; a college student who delivered pizza's part time when his study schedule permitted. I was dressed in halter top and shorts that day and I was excited to see that he took close notice of me, his eyes roaming from my face to my breasts and legs and back again to my eyes. He was very sure of himself and although courteous in every way let me know that he liked what he saw. It felt like an electric shock when our hands brushed as I paid him.

I ordered another pizza at the exact same time on the following week, and the same young man made the delivery. I was wearing a half-bra and showing more breast than before and he was just as fascinated.

We must have found something to chat about, I don't recall what was said, but it took about twenty minutes to pay and tip him. I was as bold as he, looking at his body and eyes as he drank in mine. My nipples were almost showing and he was obviously waiting for one to pop out, and I gave them every chance! He had an erection; I could barely pull my eyes from it. God the vibes between us were extreme." She paused as if considering whether she should continue.

One of the ladies intervened, "Jean, for God's sake, you can't stop now, you have to tell us all of it. I don't know about the others but I could get off any minute." Nervous laughter echoed around the room. And then, "Did he make a move on you? Jean, did he touch you?"

Jean took in a deep breath and replied, "Well no, it would not have taken much, one touch and he could have had me. I think he wanted me to make the first move, but I just couldn't make myself do it. He shrugged and smiled 'Hope you order another pizza soon,' and left.

I did order another pizza requesting that the shop send it by this young man named Jim. I was more ready this time, sure that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. I answered the door wrapped only in a bath towel as if I had just had a shower. His eyes lit up, he must have realized that I was ready to fuck him this time, and that's what I wanted him to think."

There was a groan from the ladies but no comments.

"I turned and he followed me into the kitchen and I could feel his eyes burning into my ass all of the way. God I wanted him to feel me. He placed the pizza on a counter. I was standing in front of him clutching the cash to pay him in my hand as he turned. He simply reached over and tugged the towel off of me and tossed it on the floor as I dropped the cash. I have never been naked like that before, standing in a kitchen without a stitch in front of a man who I did not really know looking at me with predatory eyes. It was thrilling, I knew he wanted me; he had a hard-on. He was lightly dressed, a tee shirt, shorts, bare legs and sandals." Jean paused again; still unsure of whether she should relate all of the detail.

At this point in her narrative, one of the ladies listening to it all gasped out, "Jean, you were naked in your kitchen with this young man? What were your feelings? Were you frightened? How did it all happen? What did you want to happen? What did happen?"

Jean suddenly wondered why she had started this story. But the recounting of her encounter with Jim had aroused all of them and made her feel just a little superior to her more cautious friends.

She continued, "Well obviously the fantasies that I had enjoyed about him had encouraged me to appear in a bath towel that day, although I had not carried the thoughts beyond that point. I guess that I thought I was just going to be a cock teaser and see if I could get him to make a move.

But suddenly I was naked. We both knew what would happen then, there was no doubt in either mind. I knew he wanted in my pussy and he knew that I knew, and that none of this would have happened if I had not wished it, it had been my call.

He moved quickly, not waiting for the opportunity to pass, and dropped his shorts and undershorts to the floor while kicking off his sandals. Suddenly this man with the body of an Adonis was standing naked except for a tee shirt about 3 feet in front of me. He is at least 6'2" with an athlete's body, his muscles long as opposed to bulging, powerful legs and thighs. He told me later that he played hockey and soccer and I could believe it. His cock was jutting straight out at me, the knob looked like it was the size of an apple for God's sake."

The other ladies were mesmerized; there legs crossed tightly, rubbing and touching themselves. Dorothy spoke up, "You can't stop now Jean, not with us in this state, we're all horny. Tell us what he did to you. Well, we know what he did but how did he do it?" Nervous laughter followed Dorothy's stumbling questions.

Jean took a breath. She was pretty well committed to completing the tale, and in fact enjoyed relating a story that she believed the others had never lived out themselves.

"He moved closer to me. I swear I was panting like a steam engine when he said, 'touch me Mrs. Gordon.' I was to learn that this was always his first move, wanting me to hold his cock in my hand like that. It was as if he sought an invitation to continue each time."

One of the other ladies murmured, "Here, here."

Jean continued, "So I did. I grasped his shaft and closed my fingers around it. His cock was hot; I could feel the blood coursing through its length, that huge knob bursting out from my fist as I slowly pumped it back and forth. He pulled his tee shirt over his head as I stroked him; I thought maybe he wanted me to get him off with my hand. My pussy was quivering in synch with my strokes. We were standing facing each other, our sides sort of braced against the kitchen table. He pushed his knee between mine, spreading me enough to slip two fingers between my legs.