Time in New England Part 4 and final
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Time In New England Part One free porn video
Rosalind is an exciting British woman whom I met quite by accident on the internet. Because we share similar interests, we became fast friends. After nearly a year of emails, chats flirting, sharing fantasies and generally getting to know one another by our lifeline on the net and sometimes by phone, we decided to take our relationship to the next step and actually meet. I’ve been to the UK several times but Rosalind had never left is so we decided that she would come and visit the US and I’d show her around the New England area. I travel extensively and so it cost me all of ten US Dollars to cash in some frequent flyer miles and book Rosalind into a first class seat on a United Air Lines flight to Newark NJ just outside New York. Our plan was that I’d meet her at the Airport and we’d drive up through Connecticut, Rhode Island and Massachusetts touring the countryside by day and touring each others minds, bodies and souls by night.
I wonder if anyone ever did a study on how much business airlines enjoy from travelers who are meeting lovers whom they’d met on the internet. I’d bet it’s a significant revenue stream for them. Maybe one day some enterprising travel agent will cobble together and advertise lovers ‘first meeting’ romance packages.
Rosalind would be here in the US for a week but part of the trip I’d have to give her up on Friday because she has relatives outside Chicago that she wanted to visit for the weekend. An amazing woman, Rosalind is a fitness buff and therefore well toned. She’s in her late fifties but looks better than most women I’ve known in their thirties. She wouldn’t understand this but there is something compelling in her accent that attracts me to her like a cobalt magnet. In general, people’s accents intrigue me almost like they were a form of music. Women with British accents are especially pleasing to me and when these women use those so very proper spoken women use profanity it just blows me away! Rosalind didn’t disappoint on that score and every time we spoke on the phone I was more and more convinced that one day I needed to have that wonderful voice inches from my ear begging me to push harder and deeper into her.
She arrived on a Sunday late afternoon and traffic around Newark was even worse than it is on weekdays as scores of Europeans flock in during the late summer tourism season and also for businessmen flying in for Monday morning meetings. We’d exchanged many photos over the year so I knew exactly who we were looking for but just the same I’d told her to look for a big, bearded guy holding a rose. My sense of humor leans to the corny and we’d joked once about a Budweiser beer advertisement where someone hands a woman a rosebud and says, “This Bud’s for you,” and while it’s a lame opening line, I was planning to use it anyway. When Rosalind’s face actually materialized in the crowd exiting Customs, all I wanted to do was have my arms around her and I held her for God knows how long before saying more than “Welcome to America.”
“Thank you,” she said in that wonderful English accent, so close to me that I could feel her sweet breath on my face when she spoke. We must’ve looked like lovers long held apart rather than two people meeting for the first time.
“You must be exhausted but it doesn’t show on you, Rosalind,” I said.
“I’m OK “ she said, “I managed about two hours of sleep on the plane, but I certainly could use a shower and a cup of tea.”
“Coming right up, mLady” I said, faking a clipped English accent. I grabbed her large bag leaving her to manage her small carry-on and we boarded the tram to the parking lot. I knew that Rosalind had been traveling for close to eighteen hours so I’d already checked into a hotel about 10 miles from the airport. While Rosalind was taking her shower I ordered in a light supper via room service. I was wishing that they’d have Earl Gray tea but whomever answered the phone in room service hadn’t the first clue as to what kind of tea it was. When Rosalind emerged in a robe with a towel on her head she blushed crimson and said, “This is NOT how I wanted you to see me on our first night together.”
“Hon, I’m just happy to see you here at all!” We enjoyed out meal and snuggled together on cool crisp sheets. I could see that Rosalind was physically exhausted from her travels. We’d discussed this possibility beforehand. We’re not young kids with boundless energy. Rosalind was 58 when we met and I, 62. The last thing either of us wanted for our memories of our first time together is that it would be rushed or done in exhaustion. Transatlantic travel is still a pretty grueling experience in terms of the hours you travel, the many lines in which you wait and countless other hassles draining ones coping skills. Morning was the right time for us. I spooned up against her and said, “Baby I want you rested enough to fuck me inside out in the morning.”
“Count on it” she replied and in something under five minutes her breathing took on the easy, distinctive sound of sleep. I was hard as a rock but forced myself to be patient for another night. Soon I was asleep and when I awoke in the morning, I was still holding Rosalind close. The difference was morning wood and when Rosalind awoke and felt my turgid cock gently poking the cleft of her gorgeous ass she said, “Well, I notice that someone is up early!”
I kissed the nape of her neck and said, “It feels good to wake up beside you, Good morning!” I quickly excused myself and padded off to the bathroom to brush my teeth and use the toilet. As an afterthought I slapped on a bit of Old Spice cologne. Returning to bed, Rosalind said to me, “Mmmmmmm you smell delicious – back in a jiff.”
I’m not sure from where it materialized but Rosalind entered the bathroom wearing modest PJs and emerged just ten minutes later in an ankle length, slit black shimmering gown that looked as if Satan himself had sculpted it just for her. Perfect was the only word to describe Rosalind. Her honey blond hair looked perfect, her smile was perfect, her body draped in black silk eye-candy was perfect and her legs displayed provocatively in the slits of her gown were an order of magnitude beyond perfect. I’d be between those wonderful legs in the next minutes or doubtlessly die of despair. That first kiss was light and tentative. The second pulled out all the stops and we were drawn together like disaster survivors!
Nothing about our first coupling was tender, or patient or anything of that sort. We were animalistic. Our moans and grunts began during that second kiss and gathered energy from there. I was out of my boxers by the fourth kiss and still wearing her silk gown, Rosalind quickly straddled my body, her hand guiding me to entry. Moist heat surrounded my penis as her body took me in and she began rocking slowly, her beautiful face now an art treasure of passion and ecstasy. I was pumping too and had to restrain myself a bit or she’d have flown off like a rider from a bucking horse. I don’t remember what was said but the two of us loved and fucked, we moaned, encouraged each other, we rutted and cursed and fucked some more. Rosalind’s proper British voice treated me to a litany of heaven-sent profanity and I responded in kind. I felt myself readying to come and told Rosalind that I was almost there. Rosalind replied that she was right there with me and that she was arriving. I’d never heard that expression before and just the sound of her voice and that new word for ‘cuming’ sent me over . My hips lifted her while my hands grabbed her hips for balance. My testicles strained tightly and every muscle in my genitals and my lower back began convulsing as rope after rope of batter sluiced into Rosalind’s body. She quivered as I filled her. We hung suspended in time like that, with me shooting and her quivering for the lifetime of a few seconds and then Rosalind collapsed atop me. We kissed each other’s faces and mouths and eyelids as our bodies sorted themselves out in relaxation. I held Rosalind close and closed my eyes drinking in the her fragrance and the heady sex smells that filled the room. “Hey You,’ she said, “don’t fall asleep on me”.
“Sleep? Actually I’d sleep like a baby right now but I think it’s time I got Room Service up here, fed you a proper ‘breakky and reloaded our bodies for round two.
More to follow…
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Time in New England Part Two a story inspired by
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Time in New England Part Two a story inspired by
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