Legs
Joe Brewster
Copyright 2011 Joe Brewster/TransgressiveFiction
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ooOOOoo
I stopped by the coffee shop like I do every morning. There was a lady in line up ahead of me wearing a black leather motorcycle jacket with a mini skirt and stiletto heels. She looked like something out of the 50s or 60s. She could have been in costume. Her big ratty hair was obviously a wig.
Someone started humming a tune from the movie GREASE. That got a chuckle out of a couple morons waiting in line.
I didn’t laugh.
This chick had class - and a great pair of legs.
I mean World Class excellence. The kind you don't get from running or working out. All the running, aerobics or gym work in the world won’t get you gams like that. These are the kind of legs you're born with - if you're lucky enough to win the genetic lottery. She looked fabulous. Or, I should say, her legs looked fabulous. I couldn't see her face from my place in line.
‘Legs’ gave her order and that's when I noticed how old she was. Her voice gave it away. She was probably my grandmother's age. I mean sixty, at least. And I just thought, 'Man that is so cool.' You know? She's got a great pair of legs and she knows it. Why not flaunt them? Good for her. I couldn’t blame her. I gave her credit.
Women half her age wouldn't have the guts to go around attracting attention like this; dressed in such a short, tight, skirt and slutty heels. In my book, she rocked.
I'm a positive-minded person. I give compliments when they're due. If I see something that looks great I tell the person. That's how I am. It’s the way I was raised. I like to make people feel good. I'm not into false flattery. I don't lie. What would be the point of that? I'm not after anything. It just makes me feel good to let someone know they brightened my day.
So while the ‘Legs’ was waiting for her order I gave her a compliment. I told her I loved the way she looked in that outfit and that her legs were terrific. She smiled and said, "Thank you." Her eyes twinkled. I could see that I'd made her day. She took her stuff and left.
She knew how to take a compliment. She had class. She didn’t fuss or act coy or make a big deal out of it the way some women do. She didn’t try to qualify my compliment by saying, ‘You mean I have nice legs for an old lady’ or some nonsense like that. I meant she had great legs, period, and that's how she took it.
I was feeling good about myself as I walked to my car in the parking lot. I brought some sunshine into another person's life and it didn't cost me a thing. More people should do that, I thought to myself, mentally patting myself on the back.
A car rolled up along side me, breaking my stream of thought: A bright red '65 Mustang convertible with the top down. Mint. Wow!
"Nice car," I said just as I realized it was 'Legs'.
"Hop in," she said.
I had an hour to kill before my job interview, so I hopped in. Why not?
We drove around awhile, chatting about nothing in particular, listening to her satellite radio set to a Classic Oldies station.
We had each finished our coffee so she pulled into a city park where we stopped to throw our cups in a trash container. She asked me if I wanted to drive.
"I’d love it," I said, thrilled.
"But you have to drive exactly the way I tell you, okay?"
"Absolutely," I said. "I'll be careful. I'll keep both hands on the wheel."
"No, you won't," she looked at me sternly. She took my right hand off the steering wheel and placed it on her amazingly smooth, amazingly firm, thigh. Nice and warm. Just under her skirt which meant it was practically in her bush as short as her hem was, "Keep your hand right here, where I like it."
We took off down the road.
I imagine she and her boyfriend(s) must have driven around like this many times in her teenage years.
I looked over at her. She was fingering herself, getting liquid. The intoxicating fragrance of her wet scent drove me wild. I could smell her pussy even with the top down it was so invigorating. It smelled like we were driving through a garden of earthly delight. God, it was nice.
She reached over and smeared my top-lip, Dirty Sanchez style, with the rich potion on her finger before pushing her whole hand, all four of her drenched fingers, into my mouth.
She tasted so damn good it was unbelievable. I didn't know women could taste that good. I didn't know women her age could even get that wet. I'm not being a smart ass. I didn't know. It was a most happy surprise.
At the next red light, she jumped me. She hopped, kneeling, into my lap. She grabbed my head by the hair and jerked it back so that my face looked up at her. Then she locked on to me with her wet warm mouth.
We traded the heavy musk of her lusty flavor back and forth, swapping spit like it was some kind of life-saving maneuver. Like one of us would die if we didn't keep shoving our tongues down each others throat.
Her tongue was warm and slick and strong. Slippery. Sweet and tangy. Dirty sweet.
The car behind us honked its horn when the light changed--- but I didn't move. People noticed us and stared--- but I didn't care.
She got back in her seat in her own sweet time and then we drove on.
Looking over at her I could understand how other people might think she looked funny. Her wig was ratty on purpose. Now it looked awkward and disheveled. And though her face had beautiful features there was no hiding the fact of her age. To me, her attitude and overall confidence made that an asset. It accented her courage and determination. This Badass Cougar-Granny was loaded for bear, sexually speaking, and she wasn’t going to let a little thing like age get in the way of her getting some.
"Pull over here," she said.
I drove down a secluded dirt road near the park and stopped beside a pond under a tree.
She reached over and turned the engine off but left the radio on and had her lips around cock before I knew what happened.
She sucked me off like a pro. Taking me deep into her mouth and wrapping her tonsils around my shaft. She worked on my cock in ways I'd never dreamed possible.
The entire morning had been like falling through a series of trap doors. At every point something completely unexpected happened.
I never expected to see such incredible legs on an older woman. I never expected to see her after I spoke to her in the coffee shop. I never expected to be driving a classic car. And I certainly never expected that within the hour this mature lady would be going down on me. But I really never would have expected that she could rock my world the way she did.