Mavis held on tight, luxuriating in the feeling of his large, strong body over hers. One of his hands cupped her breast, thumbing at her nipple through the cup of her bra, and even that muffled touch was enough to send a jolt of pleasure through her body.
She shifted her hips underneath him, spreading her legs until she could feel the growing hardness of his erection pressing against her upper thigh. He moved up, kissing her deeply, and his cock settled directly between her legs.
Urgency had definitely taken them over now, but somehow that earlier tenderness hadn’t disappeared. Wilson’s every movement was still gentle, still caressing and caring. As he moved his hips against her, pressing right up against her clit, he broke the kiss and studied her face, as if to check that she was all right, that this was what she wanted.
“More,” Mavis breathed, and watched his eyes kindle with a silvery flame just before he bent down to kiss her again, more fiercely.
And then they were moving together—the swell of his cock pressing up on her clit through their pants, pleasure starting to rock through her body as she tasted his mouth. She was amazed at how quickly she felt the crest of ecstasy rising inside her. It had been so, so long since anyone had touched her at all, and her body was thirsty for it; every kiss was a drink of water.
She moaned into his mouth as his hips rolled, sending a wave of sensation through her. He did it again, and the wave went higher. She was soaking through her pants at this rate; she was going to leave a damp patch on his jeans, and she couldn't bring herself to care.
"Oh God," she broke from his mouth to say. "Oh God, right there, right there, Wilson—"
She came. She came without even getting her pants off, shuddering and pulsing with pleasure right there, fully clothed in his arms. He kissed her through it, fiercely at first, and then gentling, until she caught her breath and calmed down, lifting her chin for more soft, dragging kisses.
"Whoo," she said finally, when the last shivers of pleasure were fading away. "It's been a long while since I've done that." Then she laughed.
He smiled down at her. "What?"
"Necking on the couch, and now dry humping on the bed. What sort of middle-aged people are we?" she asked. "Teenagers, more like it."
"Maybe teenagers have the right idea," he said in low voice, "because that was the hottest thing I've ever seen."
That was a strange idea. Mavis wasn't in the habit of thinking of herself as hot. After all, she was fifty. She had a grown daughter. She wore sensible, businesslike clothing, never anything suggestive or revealing. And it had been more than seven years since she'd even thought about having sex with a man, let alone actually done anything.
But Wilson was looking at her like the very sight of her stretched out on this bed was setting him on fire. And Mavis couldn't do anything but believe him.
"Well then," she said, and her voice was low like his had been, rough with renewed desire, "why don't you let me take some clothes off, and we'll see if we can't top that?"
He kissed her hard, and then pulled back. "I can't think of anything in the entire world I'd want more than that."
Mavis unbuttoned her shirt, and watched Wilson's eyes trace over the curves of her generous breasts as they were revealed. He reached out and traced a thumb down the line of her bra, and she shivered. She sat up, shedding the shirt and reaching behind herself to undo the clasp.
When she was bare from the waist up, Wilson leaned forward and kissed her just between her breasts, then trailed warm, damp kisses up over one curve to her nipple, while Mavis trembled and felt the muscles between her legs clench with increasing want.
He paid lavish attention to her nipple with his mouth, catching the other one between two fingers and massaging lightly. He didn't pinch, just slowly built up pressure and sensation until she was almost writhing.
She was gasping for breath when he pulled back, his hands going to her waistband. He gave her a questioning look and she nodded, too breathless to speak.
He undid her pants and tugged them down; she lifted her hips to help him. Her panties were still on, white cotton with a lacy border, dramatic against her dark skin. He leaned down and kissed the thin fabric over her hipbone. His fingers dipped between her legs, and when he lifted his head, his pupils were wide and dark. "You're so wet."
The fabric was surely soaked through from her orgasm. Mavis nodded, and then gasped again as his fingers started massaging once more, this time over her clit. The wet cotton dragged over the sensitive skin, making her arch her back in sudden, overwhelming pleasure.
Just as she was sure she was about to come a second time, he pulled back, and over her protesting sound, he pulled her panties down. Mavis kicked them impatiently off, and said, "Now you."
Wilson looked down, as though he'd completely forgotten he was still clothed. Then he glanced back up at her, and grinned. It made him look ten years younger. "If you insist," he said, and went for the buttons of his shirt.
Mavis drank in the sight of him as it was revealed. She hadn't been wrong about his muscles—they rippled over his body, hard and defined from decades of conditioning. His chest hair was salt-and-pepper gray, and she wanted to get her fingers on it.
When he unbuttoned his jeans, Mavis found her mouth watering. Slowly, teasingly, he inched them down over his hips—then paused when all she could see was a hint of pubic hair. She looked up, and he had a twinkle in his eye.
Sternly, she said, "Quit stalling."
His lips quirked, and he stripped his pants and underwear off in one smooth motion, leaving his cock exposed. It was long and thick, fully erect and flushed with blood. Mavis drew in an involuntary breath.
Then he was over her, bending down to kiss her mouth, one hand between her legs, fingers slipping inside. Mavis pushed back against them, but they quickly disappeared—just checking if she was ready, they must have been, because the next thing she felt was the thick, blunt pressure of his cock pushing into her.
God, it felt so good. It was like they were coming together in more than just the physical. Mavis felt as though what she’d wanted earlier, to have Wilson stay with her forever, with his caring eyes and his gentle touch, was actually coming true.