“Bethy I need to get out. I’m over feeling miserable for myself because he left.” Olive pleaded with her neighbor. “Call the girls and let’s go to Stirrups.”
One more pouty look is shot across the living room at Bethany before she caves and picks up her phone. They both quickly send out a group text to a couple close friends and get ready for a Saturday night out on the town. A couple hours later five 28yo single women walk into the club, and get the window booth overlooking the river and boardwalk.
Bethany signals the bartender and they all order their first round, talking about how their loser exes should be feeling miserable instead of them and they’re going to change that tonight. They make a pact over the second round to each get at least two numbers from men tonight. By the fourth round of drinks giggling and dares start happening.
Olive sits there sipping her drink kind of off in la-la land when a finger waves in front of her face and her four friends stare back at her. Since she zoned out they decide to dare her to go grind up against this man at the bar. Olive turns to a see who they were talking about and sees this man who is old enough to be her dad, maybe even a grandpa. She instantly wants to throw up her drink, but she has never shown her friends fear. So she downs what’s left and takes the empty drink toward the bar. She fake stumbles right into the man’s lap. Giggling and turning red she wiggles her butt a little too much in his lap trying to stand back up. He grabs her narrow hips and firmly places her on her stilettos.
“Alright girlie that’s enough.” He growls so close to her face she can feel the heat of his breath and smell the bourbon he’s been drinking. “Hey Tad, you need to get this girl and her friends a cab, ain’t none of ’em need be here.”
The bartender, Tad presumably, nods his head. Olive stands her ground turns to him and starts going off on him in English and her native French. No one gets to tell her when she’s had enough. Just as she finished “Vieux connard. Tu n’as pas l’occasion de me dire comment vivre.” She felt a hand grab her upper arm. The old man apparently had a friend. He was dressed better, maybe slightly younger. Olive would say mid-50s.
She stood there and glared at him, daring him to speak. When he didn’t she wretched her arm free and said “bon débarras.” She walked deliberately back to her friends and sat down. When asked what happened she relayed everything except how her arm still burns like it was scorched from the contact with the second man.
After a couple more rounds and several songs that they danced to, three of the girls left leaving just Bethany and Olive. Bethany told Olive she would be right back she had to get change for cab fare.
As the girls got into the cab Olive remembered her keys were on the table. She told Bethany to go ahead she would be right behind her. Olive steps back in and looks at the table not seeing her keys she goes to the bar. She waves to the bartender to get his attention and waits for him to work his way down to her. She asks about a set of keys and the bartender says No. She turned to check the table more thoroughly when she literally runs into the younger old man.
“Hey miss, are these yours? I was taking them to the bar. I saw them at your table.” He spoke in a slow southern drawl, not like most of the accents that were in this part of the Carolinas.
“Thank you!” In her excitement Olive squealed and jumped onto her toes giving him a peck on the cheek and a hug. “They’re my apartment keys, I’m so thankful. Can I buy you a drink to repay you?”
“No miss I was actually on my way out.” He replied. He turned and walked to the door, she was following him so she could catch a cab home.
Standing on the sidewalk waiting for a cab seemed endless. Finally a car pulled over, she didn’t see any cab markings so didn’t walk toward it until the passenger window slid down and the gentleman asked if he could take her home so she didn’t have to wait longer. After a moment hesitation she shook her head yes and got in. Olive gave him her address, careful to not include which apartment was hers.
The two small talked on the drive, she learned the man’s name was Elijah. Olive called Bethany and let her know she was safe and on her way to her apartment. Several minutes later they arrived outside her apartment building and Elijah parked on the street. He glanced over and noticed Olive had fallen asleep, or he hoped it was asleep and not passed out. The girl had consumed quite a bit of alcohol. He stepped around the car to the passenger door, and gently shook her. She moaned in but didn’t wake. He tried several more times before closing the door and walking to the building looking for the directory for which apartment was hers. All he had was her first name so looked for Olive or O. There were two O’s on the list and they were 3 floors apart. He went back and grabbed her keys turning it to look, hoping there was something that would help him identify which apartment or even floor. There was a #5 etched on one side. So he went back to the list and checked a O. Pierre lived at #516. So Elijah once again went back to the car, reached across Olive and turned it off, sliding his keys into his pocket. He then unbuckled Olive and picked her up walking toward the building. He barely managed opening the door and holding onto her at the same time.
When he stepped into the lobby it was pretty straight forward, typical urban stairs leading up to the floors on the right, elevator bank on the left. After waiting for the elevator for longer than usual he made the floor selection. He pulled out her apartment key, shifting Olive enough she seemed to rouse some, but not enough to stand or even converse.
Elijah found her door, unlocked it, then found her bed as he was removing her shoes and pulling the blanket down Olive roused enough to pull him down on top of her.
“Whoa gorgeous, you’re drunk”
“Na, love, I am tipsy and horny. There’s a difference and you’re just the guy I’m looking for to help”
Elijah couldn’t respond as her lips found his and her legs wrapped around his waist. Her dress sliding up around her hips. Her panties didn’t create much of a barrier. Her hips arched upward as greedy as her lips, searching for a release. The soft moans against his lips as she felt his erection go egged him on. His hands traced up her thighs finding the tops of her panties and starting to tug them down. Her hands quickly started to unbutton his pants. In a flurry of limbs and clothes both were naked and back together. His hands tracing her curves as his lips kissed areas of her skin that set her on fire.
“Now please” she chanted as he lined the head of his throbbing cock up to her entrance.
He pushed into her with a grunt and slid his hands under her ass, pulling her against him. He felt every muscle she had clench back as he started rocking in and out. He was sure as hard as he was fucking her and gripping her ass she’d end up with bruises but he also didn’t care. He flipped her over and enjoyed the new sight of her riding him. Her perky D cups jiggling in his face. His mouth nibbled on each in turn.
Her pace quickened and her moans got louder. He grabbed on her hips shoving himself as deep as he could, then pulled out and did it again. Relishing how wet she was and how close he was to cumming. After a couple more quick thrusts he went to pull back out and she threw her weight onto him and whisper begged “cum in me”. He couldn’t hold it back and when she rocked her hips into him he came hard. Olive let out a little giggle as she fell off to the side of him, sliding off the bed and walking to the bathroom. He knew she didn’t intend for him to stay so took opportunity to get dressed and avoid the awkward goodbyes.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/m5wh3q/searching_for_him_age_play_older_male