It had been twenty years since she'd had sex with anybody, but the longer she knew him, the more she realized she was going to have to have him. That was all there was to it.

His slightly paunchy figure and thinning hair did nothing to diminish his attractiveness. It was the light in his eyes --- a fiery kind of spirit --- that turned her on. Even when he was deadly serious, there was a trace of humor in his manner. The way he moved made her think about his penis.

They had known each other a long time, but lately it seemed, they were spending more time talking together and finding more and more in common.

She felt a little silly sticking her finger into her crotch, but she had to be sure she still had a hole there. For all she knew, it might have shriveled up and disappeared. With a sigh of relief, she discovered it was still there, waiting.

Her arms were flabby and she had a body like a potato, she thought. The breasts that had been such blue-ribbon specimens thirty years ago now hung a bit too low. Would he forgive these things?

Each Sunday after church, they met in the Fellowship Hall for coffee and doughnuts. Today, he was going on about the springtime migration of Canada geese. He was a born teacher, and when he started lecturing about things like this, she was mesmerized by his energy.

On this occasion, he stopped talking, suddenly, in order to interrupt himself. "Would you like to see them?" he asked her. "They'll probably be flying this evening; they have every day this week, and it's something to see!"

The sparkle in his eyes had turned fierce. He was really excited about this, and she felt liquid heat pool between her legs as she looked into his face.

"Oh yes," she said, with slightly more fervor than she had intended. He didn't miss the inflection, either. He brought those marvelous eyes to shine on her with bright intensity.

"That's wonderful," he said quietly, and she knew immediately that they had a date. They were both grinning at the floor like a couple of fools, and she hoped nobody else had noticed.

They sat companionably on the porch of his farmhouse, enjoying the Michigan twilight. The last of the geese had flown more than an hour ago. It was chilly, and they probably didn't need the citronella candle that flickered on the table between them, but it added a comfortable light and fragrance to the intimate darkness.

There was silence as they listened to the call of a screech owl. He told her all about what the presence of screech owls implied ecologically for the forest and how odd it was for the owl to call so early in the evening. She relaxed into the wicker chair and sighed contentedly, listening to him talk.

"Am I boring you?" he asked, when he heard her sigh.

"Not for a minute," she replied warmly. She wondered if she had died and gone to Heaven, sitting on that porch, listening to that man.

The silence that followed seemed full of portent. Finally, he asked, "What are you thinking?"

It was a direct question and demanded a direct answer. "I'm thinking about how much I'd like to sleep with you," she told him.

"Oh!" he said, breathlessly. He jumped to his feet much faster than she would have thought possible and came to stand before her, taking her hands. "Let's go!" She let him pull her to her feet.

"Race ya!" she said, making a grab for the doorknob. He was surprised by this attack of playfulness, but recovered quickly, nudging her out of the way with his hip. The staircase was really too narrow for both of them to run up it abreast, so they took turns pushing one another and jockeying for the lead, giggling like a pair of teenagers.

He won handily. By the time she got to the top of the stairs he had disappeared into the dark, unfamiliar geography of the second floor. She saw a light go on and took it as an invitation into the bedroom. He was standing there, flushed and breathless, looking shy. Love for him washed over her like a wave of the sea.

"Do me a favor," she requested, resting her hands on his waist. "Let me undress you, OK?"

"Oh…yes," he replied. His face was soft, but energy sparked in his eyes.

She unbuttoned the shirt and slid it over his shoulders. There was a small thatch of hair between his breasts, and she buried her face in it. His skin was cool and smooth as she brushed her lips across his chest to take his small nipple into her mouth.

Placing her hands on his bottom, she pressed him into her so that she could feel his hard erection against her stomach. "God Almighty," he breathed. "It's been forever."

She started fiddling with his belt buckle. "Why do you guys wear so darned much hardware?" she asked in frustration, fumbling with his pants.

"Wait until I try to get your hooks undone, woman!" he laughed.

They wordlessly made a deal. She unhooked her bra and he unfastened his belt.

She knelt in front of him, pulling down his pants and boxers. Sitting back, she surveyed her work, his rose-colored erection jutting out huge in front of her. "Wonderful," she murmured. He said nothing, but his breath came hard and ragged as he looked down at her.

This was a moment she had so looked forward to, and she intended to treasure it. She pressed her nose into his scrotum, inhaling deeply his sweet, starchy fragrance. Desire bolted through her body in response to it. Her hands stroked lightly over his stomach and abdomen, savoring his hard hairy texture. When she finally took him into her mouth, inch by inch, he grunted softly.

Her heart pounded in her chest; God, he tasted good! He moaned as she started massaging his penis with her tongue. Amazed that she could still do it, she took him in all the way, nuzzling his crisp pubic hair as she sucked him. She kneaded his bottom with slow, firm movements.

He was right; he didn't last long. He gently laid his hands on her head and with a sharp cry, he filled her mouth with his hot seed. Satisfaction exploded inside her. She licked him carefully to make sure she didn't miss a drop.

He sat on the bed, and she finished undressing him. "Sorry I came so quickly," he said.

"I loved it," she told him. "At our age, I think the first one is usually pretty quick, isn't it?"

He gave her a strange smile. "Get up here," he ordered her, mildly.

"Yes, sir," she answered. She presented herself so that she could be undressed.

He pulled her tee shirt off over her head, and the loosened bra came with it. Cool air licked her breasts, causing her to gasp.

"Now it's my turn," he said as he pushed her back onto the bed.

His kiss was gentle and excruciatingly passionate at the same time. She gave herself to the sensation of his long tongue caressing the inside of her mouth. Lost in this kiss, his warm, hard hand on her bare shoulder shocked her. She felt deliciously naked, right down to her soul.

By the time he had worked his way down to her breasts, she was so hungry for him that she had wrapped her legs around his. Even though her jeans, she could feel her wetness as her body readied itself for him.

He flicked his tongue powerfully over her nipple, slowly at first, then gradually faster. Inside her, emotion threatened to boil over. She had never felt this before. As he began sucking her hard, her body arched helplessly toward him. She groaned loudly and dug into his back with her fingernails. He gave her the still, warm softness of his mouth for her to come down into.

"I didn’t know my breast could do that," she gasped in an attempt at humor.

He was grinning widely. He got up on his knees and peeled her jeans and undies off her, throwing them unceremoniously on the floor beside the bed. Under his gentle pressure, she opened her legs, moaning as he inserted a big, hard finger into her sex. He pulled it out dripping, licked it off, and then observed, "A lot of women our age have a dryness problem."

"I’m glad I don't," she told him.

"Yeah, you do," he corrected, "and we'll have to see what we can do about that."

"What?" She felt a little confused.

"But first," he said, "let's see if your other breast can do that wonderful thing, too."

It could, and it did, and by the time he was finished with her nipple, she was moaning with every breath. "Please," she breathed, "please come inside me."

He knelt between her legs, easing them apart as far as they would go, until she was completely exposed. "First," he said, "we have to do something about this dryness."

She had made a tiny puddle on his bed already; she knew it and so did he. But she sighed with anticipation as she saw him lower his face to her sex.

Acting as though he had nothing but time, he probed and stroked every fold with his tongue, giving special attention to her vagina, ignoring her aching clit. She could feel how swollen and open she was. "Oh please," she begged. "Please please please…"

With a feather light touch, he began slowly licking the throbbing nub. Her body felt heavy, full, as though it were going to explode. She cried out mindlessly and grabbed at him, trying to pull him up onto her, but he held her legs apart and continued his slow torture.

She came so violently that she screamed, but he stayed with her, his mouth strong on her clitoris, until the convulsive arching of her body started to lessen.

"Is this the right time for me to come inside you?" he asked, politely. She replied with a frantic groan which he took as assent.

The organ that had tasted so good to her only a few minutes ago, now completed her. She held him as he entered her, her heart full of his beauty. He kissed her a few times, in her hair and on her forehead. What she had taken from him before, he could now give her more slowly.

She didn't cry out again, but kept up a low, musical moaning. Her nails tore into his back again, but he did not seem to feel the pain. He loved her for a long time; she had arrived and stayed there, her body reacting to his automatically, her mind numbed by pleasure.

At last, he came with a rasping shout, and she cradled his body in her arms, feeling the intimate pulsings of his streaming inside her. He sighed heavily into her hair.

"Lovely," she whispered, kissing his shoulder. "Thanks for helping me with my dryness problem." He eased himself out of her.

"I live to serve," he explained, curling his body around hers and covering both of them with a quilt. It was the last thing she knew until the sun rose the next morning.

When the sun did come up, she didn't want to acknowledge it, so she kept her eyes closed and remained motionless. All night long, she had cuddled next to him with her head on his shoulder, and she never wanted it to end. She only admitted to being awake when he started to stir.

Opening her eyes finally, she noticed a large, bright purple mark on his shoulder.

"Oh! I bit you!" she cried. "I'm so sorry."

His eyes were fiery above his wide grin. "Marry me," he commanded. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and she cringed when she saw the red welts she'd made on his back.

"Ok," she agreed. "I'm free on Saturday."

He turned and favored her with a warm smile. "If you don't stop being so cute, I'll never get any milking done," he complained.

"You just get back in this bed, and let me do some milking," she suggested.

He chuckled and went to gaze out the window into the pasture for a moment. Then he returned to her and climbed back into bed. "Filthy woman," he said lovingly, wrapping his arms around her.

Contentment seeped into every fiber of her being as she began her slow exploration of his body, again.