Manolo watches as her hands brushed the skin of his belly, squirms as she tugs at the mat of hair before she found him, saw how his prick sprung free from its restraint, his soft expectant gasps of longing as she fingered its length, stroked the tip, as she squeezed on his sac.
‘The rest of that can wait…for the next time,’ he murmured, keeping her from bending down to take him in her mouth. Hannah’s caresses were enough. Manolo kissed her deeply even as they stumbled against a tree, and he tore aside her panties and fingered her lustfully. ‘Here…like this…we do it here…do it now!’
Hannah would deny him nothing in the heat of the moment.
‘Go on…go on!’ she urged; her gasps of breath sharp in his ears.
Hannah met his deepening kisses, did not object as he parted her legs, lifted her against him and encouraged her to wrap them around his waist, felt his questing fingers part moist, silken skin before she clamped on the slow, purposeful slide of him as Manolo entered, stifled her cries with snorted kisses as their efforts to sustain any rhythm took its toll, as they shared in satisfying the fervour of their desire.
‘Don’t hold back…don’t…don’t hold back!’ she yelped, twisting her face away from his kisses, clawing at Manolo’s skin as he found her, shifted their weight until she could bear it no longer. ‘Fill me…let it go! Please! Please!’
He was savouring the sensation, the feeling of her warmth and wetness that enveloped his penis, her clamping contractions as he began to thrust in and out of her.
‘No condom…’ she heard him grunt.
‘Oh…it’s too late…far too late for that!’ she gasped, disconcerted for an instant. ‘Go on…just go on!’
He had established a slow rhythm and felt the fierce grip of her arms around his neck, the caress of those warm fleshy thighs on his hips as he took her, offered no kisses and saw that she had her eyes closed as she basked in shared pleasure.
‘Yes, go on…do it like that…take me….bring it all into me! Go on. Manolo!’
He shuddered on feeling her breaths in his ear, met her kisses as she worked him, her tongue darting in a and out of his mouth as if he needed encouragement. He paused in his energetic penetrating strokes to respond deeply to her kisses, these and how she worked him bringing them on. His body ached; his belly taut from his hunger for this woman who had kept her passion to live it out hidden so well from him. Now she could give full expression to er feelings and act on them. They seemed to be devouring each other with their kisses, gave each other no reprieve in this awkward dance in the orchard.
‘Do it, you wild man! Fuck me…do you understand?’ she asked in English.
‘I cannot stop…señora…Hannah!’
He now slammed and thrusted into her body with purpose, watched those wonderful breasts sway and get jerked out of his mouth as he moved in her. They were exposed for him to delight in and claim, to kiss, suck and tug upon them, which he did ardently and without reprieve, her groans and yelps of pleasure and pain harsh in his ears.
They were fucking with an animalistic intensity and not loving.
Hannah gushed in the frenzy of their rut, as she rose and settled on him awkwardly, felt the sharp press of the tree against her back, to feel that making her acutely aware of the deepening sense of completion that now overwhelmed her.
Manolo flooded her, found her on shivering spurts of release that had her gasping out his name and in rediscovered pleasure.
‘You…you are a wonderful, wild and passionate woman!’
He crushed his mouth against her parted lips, kissing her deeply as she clung to him. His claims, and her concession to them, had passed in a maelstrom of conflicting emotions and any sense of time passing.
She nodded, a sudden, abject misery now overwhelming her.
She had wanted to know of him, to deny it was futile, her time of mourning had only just ended, one that she had sought and needed, as a time to come to terms with her loss and a looming time of unknown loneliness. The young man who embraced her had brought it all to a sudden and crashing end.
‘You wonder…you are a wonder,’ he murmured, bending down to awkwardly kiss her nipples, felt her hands tug at his hair, for only a moment, to keep his attention upon them.
Hannah shivered in continued longing that his claims aroused in her. She ached to live for the moment, every one of them, degrading as it had become but sublimely pleasurable.
‘Leave me…let me accept what has happened, please?’ Hannah whispered on meeting another slow and wondering kiss. ‘Let me know of it again…only differently…later…in the house, please?’
She met a considerate look upon her.
‘I needed you…needed to show you…that it can be well even if you love another.’ Emboldened, on seeing her nod, he went on. ‘I understand, ‘annah…share moments with me…to make a new life for yourself?’
She nodded again, did so dumbly in offering an answer to what he had said. She knew the right words for what had happened between them only too well.
‘I deserve all of that, do I?’ she now said, raising her hands to sweep back her hair, her movements only exciting him again as he saw the sway of her pendulous breasts, her open blouse no longer concealing them from his sight or touch. She sought his renewed attention to them, clamped his head to her as Manolo kissed her enervated skin. All restraint had been forsaken, an impetuous and blissful rut had been pursued, and she sought to prolong these moments despite what she had said.
Oh! How he had found her!
‘You are a passionate…beautiful woman. You enchant me.”
‘If you say so…’
His compliment sounded so much better in Spanish. She did not recognise the woman Manolo found her to be.
They kissed and caressed enervated skin, did so without let or hindrance, shared in it under the trees of the orchard. Their passion faded, but they exchanged knowing looks for all that had passed between them.
‘Go…go now,’ she whispered, finally and resolutely. ‘Please go, Manolo…you darling man. You will only make me cry with your soft words and how you are with me. Go… please go away, now!’
Hannah met his wondering smile as Manolo dressed hastily, met a moment’s sliding caress to her body before he left her without a backward glance. The young man had claimed her, and he had done so with breath-taking and accomplished ardour. Her body ached, the skin of her thighs was sticky from all that he had brought and expelled into her. She would have him wear a condom next time…whenever they were together, and she took him to her.
What a time she had had of it and with him!
She retied the knot of her blouse, shifted the fabric over her aching breasts and picked up her skirt. Her panties lay at her feet, torn and pushed there by his urgent need to know of her, before his tongue found her and entered her body in wondering delectable touches and licks, each flicker sending a tremble through her only too willing and receptive body.
‘Just who are you?’
She had drawn only his face.
There might be time to draw the rest of him, from memory, but there would be no need for artistic licence, to conceal what the young man…her ardent lover had brought to her, a woman of fifty-five, a woman who painted using colour pens and brushes, all of them held in her long fingered and wrinkled hands, a condition that had yet to wreak its effects upon her face or the swell of her breasts and belly.