A May-December Romance: Part 2 free porn video

The morning and early afternoon passed without incident. As the hot Spanish sun began its first, late afternoon move towards early sunset, Doris spotted Tristan through the vented shutters of her suite, wandering back from the beach.

He had his swimsuit on again but looked so beautiful still.  So sexy and windswept. Doris might have swooned were it not for the fact that the same woman that had joined Tristan in the water the day before was walking next to him again. She was roughly her age; rather handsome-featured, with a lovely figure. It was clear to Doris that the woman was rather taken with the young boy. Tristan's pleasant and innocent demeanour, and sweet manners, made it difficult to tell whether he felt the same way or was even aware of the woman's doubtless lustful interest. But seeing them together, apparently talking quite happily, forced Doris to acknowledge a twinge of jealousy. Something about that realization wore down the last shreds of her morality, discretion, and restraint, and she found herself reaching for her mobile phone; heard herself inviting her very young nephew out for a candlelit dinner later that evening...

Later, the dusky, early evening sun was still sufficient for her to dress for dinner without having to turn on a light. In her mirror, the black panties (drops of perfume on the front panel) contrasted starkly with her smooth, bronzed skin. Her panties were delicate and very brief, and given her fleshy hips, the very narrow sides created a slight bulge, though not enough to dispel her courage to wear them for what was a very special occasion. The matching bra (more drops of perfume in the large cups) was efficient for someone her size, but still pretty. Cocking her head, she approved of the way it supported the balcony of her formidable cleavage.

Garter-less thigh high silk stockings were next, followed by the final, potential obstacle to feeling genuinely sexy – i.e.., the relative fit of her rather snug, rather short, and rather low-cut black cocktail dress. She shimmied with some effort and drew it down over her womanly hips and ripe behind. Zipped up and assessing herself in profile, she was grateful for having had the will to resist too many tasty indulgences that week. Although there was definitely a bit of a feminine belly, her tummy was still relatively flat, which only made her cantilevered bust to waist ratio even more pronounced - the kind of ratio that prompted both men and women alike to wonder to themselves, ‘How does she not fall forward?'

Perfumed, with well-coiffed salt-and-pepper hair, earrings, open-toed heels, and lipstick in place - the wrinkles around the still luminous eyes obscured as best as possible - she took one last look and then froze.

'What are you doing?' she thought to herself, staring at her provocative reflection in the mirror. 'He's an eighteen-year-old boy, for god's sake; and he's your sister's child!' A brief, momentary crisis of conscience followed. She sighed and stood in pensive silence, looking over at her chic purse and remembering her trip to the ‘farmacia' earlier that day; the awkward conversation with the young female pharmacist behind the counter. The girl had tried so hard to understand Doris's limited Spanish and be helpful - "Tiene... condoms? Condoms... muy muy grande? Tiene lubricación para... el sexo? "Um, el... pene de mi amante es... gigantesco." In the end, the girl had discreetly directed her to a shop for lovers across the street, and the extra-large condoms and lube were now tucked inside her small purse.

Finally, after much agonizing, she defaulted to the broadest of rationalizations: life was short, he was adopted, she cared very much for him, and she had been denied passionate lovemaking for far too long. If it happened at all, she tried to convince herself, it would be because they were two consensual people who both wanted physical intimacy. She grabbed her purse and left for the restaurant.

She arrived to find her handsome young companion already seated. The ambience in the restaurant was as she's hoped - intimate, quiet, elegant, and darkly lit. Tristan looked so boyishly handsome in his black blazer, stylish jeans, and black dress shirt. He held the chair for her, clearly impressed with the way she looked. She smiled at him like a beaming mother and kissed him softly on the cheek.

"You look unbelievably beautiful, Auntie Doris" he gushed.

"Why thank you, kind sir," she replied warmly. "You look positively good enough to eat, but I think I'll have a salad just the same."

They ordered cocktails to start, and Doris felt immensely more relaxed once the gin began to take effect. They ordered, and, sitting closely, enjoyed a lovely dinner, several glasses of wine, and delightful conversation, for what seemed to both of them like an hour but was actually almost three. The signals were there in spades - intense eye contact, flirtatious hair touch-ups, knowing glances, and warm smiles. Doris placed her hand atop Tristan's a number of times, and restaurant staff would be forgiven for being confused about the true nature of their relationship.  Mother and son? Teacher and student? Grandmother and grandson? May-December lovers was likely not a consideration.

Despite his boyish innocence and latent shyness, it would have been clear to any observer that Tristan was completely smitten with his Aunt. He listened intently to her stories, laughed at her amusing anecdotes, and was often gushing in his praise. After more wine than he was used to, he also became increasingly transparent in the way he looked at her; admiring the agreeable way she filled out her tight dress.

For Doris, the confluence of romantic forces was irresistible.  The wine, the romantic setting, the enchanting conversation, and the gorgeous and doting young man who made her feel like the centre of his world in that moment, made her feel sexier than she probably ever had. It was a lethal mix, and her panties became so wet during dinner she worried Tristan might detect a strong feminine scent emanating from between her stockinged thighs.

"This is so nice, I don't want this evening to end," said Tristan.

Doris paused for a moment, then threw caution to the wind.

"Well, it's doesn't have to, you know," she said, and then paused. "Would you like to… come back to my room with me?" she asked.

Tristan blushed so deeply it was apparent even in the dim candlelight.

"Of course. It's late," he stuttered. "I would be happy to... to walk you back to your suite."

Despite the contradiction, in that very moment Doris found him as sweet, innocent, and adoringly cute as she did irresistibly sexy. She leaned forward, took his trembling hand in hers, looked at him with a warm, affectionate smile, and whispered softly.

"No, silly - I meant so that we can make love."

The young man swallowed hard. His nervousness brought out the nurturing mother in her, and she squeezed his large, warm hand.

"Oh sweetie, it's okay. I promise. Please don't be shy or feel bad or afraid. It's just two people who care very deeply for each other, wanting to express that intimately. The best sex really is love and physical pleasure, you know. It will be our little secret, darling. I promise. No one else ever need know."

She placed her hand gently under his chin and lifted his bashful, downcast eyes up to hers.

"Don't you want to go to bed with me, darling?" she asked.

"Oh my god, yes.  So much," came the quick response. "But... "

"But what?" she continued, with tentative excitement.

"But, I... I don't want to hurt you, Auntie Doris."

His concern was so genuine, it was all Doris could do not to smother him with tender, motherly kisses.

"Oh, my darling, please don't worry your pretty little head about that, okay?" she said, playfully tapping the end of his nose with her finger. "You let me worry about that, okay?" After Doris signed over the bill to her room, Tristan gallantly held her chair for her. The sight of her from behind - the narrow, cinched waist, wide hips, and voluptuous derriere - made his young heart quicken.

"My sweet," said Doris. "I'd like to go back to my suite, freshen up a bit, and change into something a little more comfortable. Would you be a very kind gentleman and allow me about twenty minutes before you come around?"

"Of course!" stammered Tristan.

"Thank you, sweetie. I know - we ladies are a little silly sometimes, aren't we?"

Doris kissed Tristan on the cheek and left.

Back at her suite - half nester, half seductress - she quickly set about creating the proper atmosphere for a deliciously romantic evening that would, hopefully, end in each other's arms: large, scented candles, soft, Brazilian bossa nova music in the background, chilled champagne, and large throw pillows scattered all around the spacious sectional sofa and her king-sized canopy bed. For the final touch, she slipped into a very short, semi-sheer black baby doll and matching panties. The colour of her baby doll matched her silk stockings, so she left them on. The lingerie was delicate and light; the semi-sheer fabric revealed the dark shadows of her trimmed bush and the saucer-sized areolas of her breasts.

Doris had just touched up her lipstick when there was a soft knock. She took a deep breath and opened the door. Tristan stood tall before her holding a bouquet of roses.

"Oh, you dear! That's so sweet of you, thank you," gushed Doris. She found a vase by the window for the flowers, and Tristan seized the opportunity to feast his eyes upon the vertical line of his Aunt's womanly bum through the semi-sheer fabric.

Doris poured two glasses of champagne, handed one to him, and then sat down among the pillows on the expansive sectional sofa.

"Mmmm, yummy," she cooed, taking a first sip.

Doris smiled and patted the spot on the sofa next to her. "Why don't you take off your jacket and sit down?"

Tristan, still looking a little bashful and awkward, which Doris found ridiculously cute, did as she asked and settled in beside her. He found her perfume intoxicating and somehow very ‘adult'.

Doris set their glasses down as their eyes met; one of her eyes partially and seductively obscured by her stylish, grey-streaked hair.

"I would like to thank you for your lovely flowers," she said with allure. "But before I do, I want to make sure it's alright if I thank you with a kiss."

Tristan, worried he might actually not be able to speak, merely nodded.

"I'm very glad you don't mind," she winked, moving in close and pressing herself against him. "And you must promise me - no ‘Auntie kiss' this time?"

Before Tristan could nod his head in agreement, his eager Aunt cupped his face in her hands and pressed her pillowy lips to his. It was a kiss both of them had been fantasizing about for some time, and it did not disappoint. What began slowly, softly, and tenderly, soon became wet and hungry and passionate, their breathing pronounced. Tristan had never been kissed quite like that before. It was so hungry, so wanton. He was inspired to return the passion. Their kissing got him over the worst of his nerves, but he still couldn't quite believe what was happening. Her warm, wet tongue groped his, and he could feel the sleeping giant between his legs awaken in earnest.

"Hold me in your arms, darling," said Doris. Tristan took her soft, voluptuous form and held her to him. She adored being held in a man's arms.  It had been so long, and she thought she might melt with the enveloping warmth of it.

After a long, sensual snuggle, Doris got up and straddled his hips. Tristan could feel the heat of her sex through her flimsy panties and his pants. She took his hands and placed them on her soft, curvy behind, then drew her manicured nails across the front of her brief panties, drawing his attention to the visible outline of the dark, trimmed triangle beneath.

"Do you like the pretty little bow on my panties?" asked Doris coyly. But before her handsome boy lover was able to comment, she pointed to the one that tied the top of her baby-doll.

"And what about this one?" she asked. Tristan nodded in the affirmative.

With that, Doris slowly untied the drawstring. A heartfelt "Wow" was all he could manage when her heavy breasts were unleashed.

"A little too large, aren't they?" she said.

"No!" he shot back. ""They're unbelievably beautiful."

She cupped a heavy breast in her hand and with the other behind Tristan's neck, brought his sensuous lips to her swollen areolas. Though daunted by their size, he eagerly kissed and suckled - first one then the other - causing them to swell and puff up like large conical caps.

Doris let out a soft moan, tilted her head back, and closed her eyes.

"Ohhh, that feels wonderful, darling," She purred. "I love the way you kiss and suck my breasts. Please, darling... suck them harder."

Tristan obliged like a hungry, nursing child. Doris groaned and gasped whenever he gently drew his teeth across the swollen tips. He marvelled at how weighty and firm they felt in his hands.

A ferocious hunger came over her, and she felt a warm tingling developing in the pit of her belly. She cupped his face in her hands once again and kissed him passionately.

"I can't believe how gorgeous and sexy you are, and how wet you make me."

She climbed off and sat next to him, pressing her large breasts against her young conquest. Gently tracing his ear with the fingers of one hand, she slowly drew her other hand down over the inside of Tristan's pant leg.

Doris ran her fingers along the length of his pant leg a good half way to his knee. At the halfway point, she gave the fat shaft a gentle squeeze.

"My god, Tristan, is that all really you?!

Indeed, it was.

"My goodness," she gushed, genuinely wide-eyed.

Tristan carefully assessed her reaction, for this was the moment when most women blanched at the idea of continuing much further; such was the degree of nervousness and fear that invariably followed a closer, more firsthand inspection of his expanded endowment. His albeit limited sexual experience had taught him that a woman's eyes were almost always bigger than the cleft between her legs at the moment of truth. But he would not have to wait long for his fears to be dispelled.

Raising herself off the sofa, her thighs a little trembly, she motioned to the table. "Can you grab Auntie's purse, sweetie?"

Purse in hand, Doris then took Tristan by the hand, led him into the bedroom, and sat him down on the edge of the bed.

"Can I see it?" she asked, pointing between his legs.

Without waiting for an answer, and while her young charge silently looked on, staring at the breasts he had just tasted, she knelt before him and removed his shoes, socks, and unbuttoned his shirt. Then, unzipping his pants, Tristan dutifully raised his hips while his Aunt reached up and drew his pants down and off.

Eleven stiffening inches of forearm-thick cock dropped out between his parted thighs, bobbing rigidly.

"Pardon my language, dear, but good fucking gawd!"

"Does it turn you off or scare you?" he asked sheepishly.

"Oh, darling.  Your size doesn't turn me off.  Quite the contrary."

"I won’t lie, sweetheart,” she added breathlessly, “It does make me very nervous.  You have by far the biggest cock I've ever seen in my life. I mean it's positively enormous. But no, it's definitely not a turn off."

She moved in closer, still on her knees, gently parting his thighs. Grasping the shaft with both hands, she gasped out loud once more.

"My fingers don't even reach all the way around it," she observed incredulously, as if she were speaking to herself. She began to lovingly draw her grip up and down the immense length of it; staring at it, amazed.

"My goodness, you're so beautiful," gushed Doris. "Would it be alright if I tried to put some of it in my mouth?" she asked softly. Tristan nodded, and Doris leaned closer still; first kissing the side of the shaft, then enveloping the massive head with her sensual lips. His head arched back when her warm mouth and wet tongue first tasted the tip of his hardening monster. The head was so big she had to be careful not to draw her teeth across it.

Watching his reaction, she suckled the huge head, then spread her lips and attempted more. With her lips stretched rather comically, and her tongue forced against the bottom of her mouth, she managed several more inches. Tristan looked on in quiet admiration at his Aunt's willingness to repeatedly gag herself on his erection.

With both hands pumping the shaft, she began sucking his giant cock in earnest. Saliva began to build up in her mouth, and his size was such that she was rather helpless to do anything about it. Consequently, a sticky mixture of lipstick and spit began oozing from her lips and trickling down over her fingers. Her pace quickened, her head began to bob, and the head of Tristan's erection began to forcefully bump against the back of Doris's throat. She moaned as she tried valiantly to accommodate more and more of him in her mouth without gagging. Despite her best efforts, though, she could only manage a small fraction of it. Still, her wanton enthusiasm continued to shock Tristan. He'd never experienced a woman so eager to pleasure him orally. He did not think her ‘old', but somehow the sight of his Aunt, a woman older than his mother, sucking his cock so hungrily, left him in awed rapture.

"As much as I want you to cum on my face and breasts, sweetie, I need sex and I need you to try to put it inside me," she said, panting and catching her breath. "I need you to fuck me."

Something in her unfiltered and naked lust emboldened him. Like the gallant young man that he was, he took his Aunt's hand and helped her up; his giant, rigid prong bobbing straight out and down from between his legs.

"Can I take off your panties, Auntie Doris?" he asked ever so sweetly.

"Of course, my sweet," she replied eagerly.

Angling her shoulders, she removed her opened baby-doll. Her young lover approached and gently traced her naked shoulders with his fingers, softly kissing her neck. Doris closed her eyes and gasped when she felt his heavy, hard sex brush against her side; his thumb brushing her swollen nipple. Then, without warning, Tristan picked her up in his arms, took her to the bed, and gently laid her down. Kneeling before her at the end of the expansive, king size bed, he raised her knees, reached under her behind on both sides, and gently removed her delicate, sexy panties. Doris parted her legs and watched as the young boy began kissing the insides of her fleshy thighs; thighs already damp and sticky from the excess wetness between her legs. He briefly sat back on his heels, bringing her wet panties to his nose.

"God, you're so incredibly sexy," purred Doris. Then, pointing down to her exposed pussy, added, "Auntie Doris wants you to kiss her here."

Requiring no further direction or encouragement, he gently pressed his mouth to her warm labial lips, eliciting another intake of breath. Soon, as Tristan's tongue began to circle and pass over his Aunt's clitoris with ever-increasing pressure and frequency, she began to swoon.

"Oh, darling, yeesss," she groaned.

Gripping his hair roughly between her fingers, she pressed his face forcefully between her thighs.

"That's it, sweetie... don't stop.  Oh god, I love the way you lick my pussy."

Despite being such a young man, Tristan's oral talents were beyond reproach; and with the warm, tingling sensation approaching a crescendo in the depths of her belly, Doris soon cried out, arched her back, and roughly gripped his hair with clenched, sweaty fingers, as wave after wave of a tsunami-like orgasm rippled through her body.

After her groans and contortions had abated, the two cuddled together once more, suckling each other's tongues.

Still kissing and biting each other's lips, Doris reached down with her hand and gripped the rock-hard monster that had likely caused more than a few women to walk awkwardly. She didn't know which to be more incredulous about - the incredible length or the equally formidable girth. The smooth skin of his penis was taut now. It felt like a warm club. She knew it was soon to lay waste to her delicate nether region, and the nervous excitement made her tremble.

She held his face with her hand and drew his eyes to hers.

"Sweetie, I want you to put it inside me... now," she said.

Tristan, though sexually primed as only a young man can be, still did his best to restrain his lust. This was his Aunt. He cared for her very much. His unusual size was ruinous to women's pussies, even mature ones - this he knew - and he did not relish the idea of causing the object of his newfound affection pain.

"Are you sure?" he asked one last time.

"Get Auntie's purse," she whispered softly.

She had him reach inside for the lubrication, telling him to disregard the XXL condoms.

"I need you to smear that all over your giant cock,” said Doris. As directed, Tristan worked a liberal amount of lube over the entire shaft with both hands.

When she practically begged him to make love to her, he positioned himself between her legs and laid his enormous weapon across her belly. Her eyes widened yet again when she looked down and observed that it extended beyond her navel. From that perspective, the incongruity of something that large fitting inside her was all too apparent. With his strong hands resting atop her raised knees, she reached down and stroked it lovingly, marvelling at its punishing dimensions.

"My god, I so want you inside me," she gushed, as if surprised by her own courage. "I don't know if I can handle all that, but I so want to try. I want it to fit; and as long as we're patient and take our time, I think it will," she said. "But even if I cry out, please promise me that you won't stop. Promise me that if I cry out that it's too big, you will keep trying, darling. There will be pain. But don't let that stop you."

She briefly placed his thumb inside her mouth, suckling it with raw passion. Then, taking his hands in hers, she spat several times into his palms. Tristan worked her spit over the already well lubricated shaft of his gigantic cock, making it glisten.

Doris's breathing became more pronounced in anticipation of what would doubtless be a very difficult penetration.  Her heavy chest rose and fell as the young boy, gripping his penis with both hands, pointed the tip towards her narrow point of entry. Tristan slowly began drawing the tip up and down between the petals of her moist flower; gently priming it for the onslaught to come.

"Are you ready, Auntie?" he asked. Doris nodded and, gripping the front of the shaft tightly with both hands, Tristan leaned forward and slowly began trying to push the head inside.

Not immune to signals or body language - in fact being quite sensitive to them - he noticed that Doris began clenching the bed sheets tightly right away. He heard the quick intake of breath and watched as she closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing. After three of four unsuccessful attempts, Doris managed to relax enough that the head finally disappeared between her stretched labia.

"Good gawd, that thing is huge," she whimpered, no longer mindful of sounding like a proper lady. "Go slow, okay, sweetie? That thing could really hurt me."

Despite not wanting to inflict pain on his gentle lover, and going out of his way not be a brute, Tristan still quietly enjoyed the rush of being able to overwhelm a woman like he could. His Aunt was no exception. Almost forty years older and far more sexually experienced, yet clearly still dizzy and breathless from his size.

Having managed to fit the head of his cock inside her, Tristan began slowly applying more and more pelvic force to his probing and stretching. Doris's labial lips were soon stretched taut; dilated to the max by his ‘pop can' girth. With gentle rocking, and slow, incremental gains, he eventually fit a respectable three or four inches inside her.

"Oh. My. Gaawwdd!" gasped Doris; mouth agape; eyes rolling back in her head. "You feel like a bloody baseball bat!"

Doris continued to whimper and pant as her young charge gained more and more ground. Each time progress was made, he would stop and allow her to breathe and relax. At one point, she raised her head and looked down, wincing, to observe the intensely erotic site - her lover's enormous cock slowly disappearing between her matronly thighs. His smooth abdomen looked taut and sexy from his efforts.

In truth, even at that moment, she still felt somewhat self-conscious about the fleshy deposits on her thighs, hips, and behind in comparison to his young body, but they were beyond that now. They were intimate lovers.

"Oh god," she hissed though gritted teeth. "You're so unbelievably deep."

By about inch eight, with Doris sounding almost faint, and after what seemed to them like an eternity of slow, measured progress, Tristan felt the head bump against her cervix. She had topped out with only about three solid inches to spare.

Feeling more confident and excited that they might actually be able to make love properly, Tristan became more verbally expressive. After allowing his Aunt time to adjust, he withdrew to the tip then buried his fat battering ram back inside her snatch in one full, eight-inch delivery. He knew just when to pull back to avoid hitting her cervix again, but Doris still almost barked from the greater force of it.

"You feel that, Auntie," said Tristan. "Feel all that cock inside you?"

"Oh god, yesss," groaned a weakened Doris in response. "I've never... It's so... You're stretching my pussy, filling me… making me feel like a young girl again!"

On each in-stroke, Tristan's cock was so thick, Doris's labia lips folded inward, almost disappearing, and causing her clit to rub against the top ridge of his shaft. Conversely, with each out-stroke, she felt as though he might take her delicate insides with him.

Like a train leaving the station, his pace began to build momentum; his in-and-out thrusts becoming faster and more forceful. Doris's manicured nails dug deeply into Tristan's forearms and made him wince.

"Good girl," he said encouragingly. "Take that huge cock like a good girl."

The pain came in waves, but Doris was determined not to surrender. With Tristan's cock-pumping now reaching battering ram force, she bit down on her knuckle, hard, to avoid crying out and signalling that she really couldn't handle him, that he was just far too big, that her little sheath was no match for it after all.

"Oh... god," she whimpered and sighed, barely audible and swallowing hard. "Oh... my... you're splitting me in two... "

Tristan was grunting now, the Mediterranean heat causing beads of sweat to form on his brow.

"You're as tight as a vise, Auntie," he hissed.

Still, as their lovemaking continued unabated, Doris began to reap the benefits of mind over body. Forcing herself to relax and not panic, the pain slowly began to morph into pleasure. An intense endorphin rush of primal pleasure. She was just beginning to be engulfed in the euphoria of it when Tristan withdrew and directed her to get on her hands and knees. With her vagina stretched and fixed into a temporary ‘O' from the size of Tristan's cock, she obliged and braced herself against the bedpost like someone bracing themselves against and impending storm.

She closed her eyes as he re-inserted the head of his massive weapon between the lips of her now raw slit. Somehow, she felt even more vulnerable on her hands and knees, facing her pillow; her fleshy behind and tender pussy exposed and vulnerable to the inevitable assault. Her pussy now a temporarily stretched canal, Tristan was soon pounding into her again with long, forceful, and relentless thrusting. Her large breasts pressed into the pillows, and she could feel her slightly Rubenesque derriere jiggle with the violence of his pounding.

"Holy fuck!!" she panted. "That thing is so... fucking… huge!!"

With his hands now tightly gripping her waist, Tristan began bucking into her with complete abandon, a first for him. It was then Doris was hit with the first of several teeth-jarring, vaginal orgasms - firsts for her. They came in waves; making her dizzy with a euphoric cocktail of complete release and grinding pleasure.

"That's it, sweetie!!" she shrieked almost hoarsely. "Don't stop!! Please don't stop!! Fuck me!! Fuck me with that giant dick! Oh darling, you own your Auntie's little pussy!"

He grabbed her hair roughly and grunted; mercilessly assaulting her overmatched vagina with extreme force and size.

"Your pussy feels so amazing, so tight," moaned Tristan, adding, "I think I'm going to cum... "

He withdrew and stepped off the bed. Doris let go of her tight, sweaty grip on the bedpost and sat facing him on the edge of the bed, watching him stroke his delicious, eleven-inch monster.

"That's it, sweetie. Good boy," cooed Doris. "Cum on Auntie's face and in her mouth.

Vigorously stroking his long shaft with both hands, his sac tightening, Tristan grunted a final, deep grunt.  His butt and tummy tightened as line after line of hot white cum jettisoned from the head and splashed across Doris’s face and breasts, hitting the back of her throat, and laying in streaks across her chin.

Doris drew her fingers across her breasts and sucked the cum from her fingers.

"Mmmmmmm, you taste so yummy," she purred.

Then, looking down to assess the damage, she spread her legs and touched herself, wincing and sucking in air though her teeth with a difficult smile.

"Such a good boy. Such an impossibly big boy," she beamed, the recipient of more orgasms than she could count. "You absolutely owned my little pussy, sweetie. You really have ruined me for other men."

With Tristan's spent monster now swinging heavily between his thighs, Doris reached out, grabbed his hand, and pulled him into bed with her. The pair of lovers rested in each other's arms, cuddling closely, intimately, until their mutual lusts were once again revived. They made love repeatedly, relentlessly, until the wee hours; collapsing, finally, from sexual exhaustion, and eventually falling asleep as a pair of loving spoons of flesh.

They spent the remainder of their time in Spain together, as two people who have fallen hopelessly for each other are wont to do.

As Doris gazed out at the clouds from her window seat on the plane home to Los Angeles, re-living the previous few weeks in her mind's eye, she smiled at one obscure memory in particular.

Upon their return from Malaga, Grace had noticed that Doris, although positively glowing, winced every time she sat down or crossed her legs. When she asked her about it, Doris had offered only a silly answer with a smile:

"Those young beach boys built like horses are going to be the ruin of me."