I was sitting on the edge of a desk, having searched the pigeon holes for the pen, and Zeta had just gotten herself out from under a desk and was resting on her knees. I felt her eyes inspecting my crotch.
“Drummond!” she exclaimed softly, “pardon me for mentioning it but…well.. you fly is open!”
I looked down and sure enough, my zipper on my blue jeans had opened about half way. Before I could do anything about it, Zeta chimed in,
“So, the question is, Drummond,” she said with her eyes still fixated on my fly, ” shall I zip it ‘UP’ or shall I zip it ‘DOWN’? What do you think, Drummond”
Her fingers had already gone to the tab on my zipper and pulled it down an inch and then pulled it back up an inch. She repeated this two or three times, during which my penis was beginning to react–there wasn’t anything I could do about it.
“So…up? Or, Down?” Zeta repeated, “UP? DOWN?…..UP? DOWN? I think DOWN is best, don’t you Drummond?”
So, down my zipper went and simultaneously Zeta’s other hand unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned the top button on my blue jeans. She used to both hands to tug my jeans and my shorts down over my hips down as far as my knees. She didn’t bother with getting them any farther down because she had already started to pay attention to my cock.
Using one hand to massage my cock and the other to massage my scrotum, she gently blew on both. I felt the breeze of her breath rustle my pubic hair as it wafted over my cock and balls. Her hands were warm which added to the sensuality of her massage. A little cool breath, a little warm hands–the contrast was indeed stimulating. She leaned forward and gave the shaft of my penis a series of nipping kisses working her way down to the head. It turned into a moving target as I erection bloomed. Before long she was looking at my fully erect cock.
“If we’re going to do this, Drummond, we should do it right, don’t you think?” Zeta purred.
With that, she pulled my jeans all of the way off me, pausing only to slip my cross-trainers off my feet so she could get my jeans all the way off. To balance things off, she also removed her jersey–as I suspected, she wasn’t wearing a bra.
Seeing this 40ish woman’s D-Cup breasts was an enlightening experience, to say the least. Now I know a little from breasts and these two “puppies” where not the boobs of a 40 year-old woman. A 30 year-old woman? Maybe. But a 25 year-old would be more like it. They were firm and very little droop or sag…naturally there was some but, Sheesh!, I’ve never seen breasts that large not hang at least a little. Her areolas were on the large side, probably 2″(5cm) and her nipples were not prominent…yet. They made my mouth water and my dick hard…harder, that is!
“Well, Zeta, if you really mean right, then….” I followed up on her statement.
I stood her up, unbuttoned and pulled her jeans too. They fit her a lot tighter that mine did me but the struggle was worth it. Her thong came off along with her jeans to reveal a lush pubic bush made of curly, tawny hair. Her pubic crease was totally indiscernible, that’s how thick it was. Her body was relatively trim–a little “pooch “here, a little padding there–but in remarkably good shape, again, for a 40ish woman.
Zeta had my shirt of in no time at all and we stood there naked looking at…actually admiring…each other.
I think we had the same thought at the same time, “If we are going to get serious and fuck each other, where are we going to do it? On the hard control room floor? Not hardly!”
I saw the light go on in Zeta’s eyes. She held up a finger in a “ssshhh” sign, opened the control room door, looked around, and dashed out. Seconds later she dashed back in with a couple of large pieces of thick foam padding. She threw them on the floor.
“Voila’, problem solved!” she crowed, “our stunt people have this stuff lying around all over the place. Nobody wants a stage fall to turn into a real fall…so….Oh, and don’t worry, the theater is empty now…I made sure of that!”
I’m not sure if she meant that she checked quickly and saw that the theater was empty or, if she somehow arranged for the theater to be empty now. One guess was as good as the other but, as I learned more about Zeta, I suspect the latter was the more likely situation.
With the foam on the floor making an unusually comfortable bed, Zeta and I got down to business. Her original intentions, I suspect, were just to give me a blow job and follow through with the rest all in good time. I think I turned the tables on her, though. That isn’t to say that she was displeased; she was just disconcerted that her plan had to be modified.
Well, modify that plan I did. Bypassing the kissing stages, I plopped Ms. Zeta on her back on the improvised mattress. She fell giggling…actually giggling…with her legs conveniently apart. I never miss an opportunity like this one, so I proceeded straightaway to cunnilingus. Ms. Zeta expressed no objection. On the contrary, once my face was in her crotch, she–like DD–pressed her hands to the back of my head increasing the pressure of my mouth on her snatch.
It was a harder to maneuver through her thick pubic hair but I managed, with the help of my fingers, to identify and expose the lips of her vagina. Those lips were rather large and pendulous, something that was not evident on first inspection. I was thinking that perhaps that was why Zeta sported such a full bush. Well, that is neither here nor there when it came to servicing said pussy. Once the thicket was parted, I had an clear field of action.
Thick pussy lips and a large vaginal opening, those gave me some challenges but nothing I couldn’t overcome. Her vagina was moist but not wet, her clitoris, while small, was hiding under a rather large hood–another challenge but, again, not insurmountable. I decided to go straight for her clit, a wise choice it turned out to be. I found that she had a hyper-sensitive clitoris. My mere breath send spasms through her so I took more care in my incremental teasing of it. It took time and care.