Scott Nelson felt a tightening in his groin as he watched Brenda casually undress. When she pulled her sweater over her shoulders, her young tits bobbed freely on her chest. She'd been braless, and that in itself was exciting to the forty-eight-year-old man. Her tits were like ripe pears perched on her slender chest, firm and a luscious pink.
"Christ," Brenda sighed, "the way you're staring at me I feel like some damned strip queen! Pull those threads and let's fuck, Scotty."
Her remark brought an end to Scott's momentary paralysis and he began unbuttoning his shirt. He couldn't get over the way the younger generation accepted sex so matter-of-factly! And the language they employed! "Let's fuck," she'd said! And not over forty-five minutes ago they had been perfect strangers.
Scott had met Brenda in the laundromat located on the fringe of Highland Park near SMU in Dallas. Alone in the laundromat, they began chatting and soon left together to go to her place. A laundromat was the last place Scott Nelson had expected to pick up a piece of ass, but he'd been forced to give up hunting in the bars because he was down to his last few dollars.
This whole experience was exciting to him. He guessed that Brenda was twenty-one or twenty-two. She had a nice body and pretty hair, but her face wasn't going to win any awards. She was attractive enough, but by no means a beauty.
What excited Scott was the way they had casually fallen together. They'd been talking about modern psychology when Brenda invited him to her apartment. The discussion continued there with mild sexual overtones, and then Brenda had casually asked if he'd like to ball. Just like that! No big seduction scene, no vague but exciting promises, no ridiculous protestations of eternal love. "Let's ball," she'd said.
Scott's balls contracted when he saw the twenty-one-year-old girl pull her jeans down. She wasn't wearing panties and her bushy young cunt looked like a luxurious garden between her white thighs. Her pubic hair was jet black in contrast to the bleached blonde tresses on her head, but that didn't bother Scott. Brenda was the youngest piece of ass he'd had in some twenty years!
He had, in fact, been a little worried about his sex drive in the last seven months since his divorce from Joyce. Scott had been laying divorcees in their thirties and forties as he wandered around the country desperately trying to establish himself in his new career. The majority of them were tired losers and Scott had been experiencing a seriously declining interest.
"Hey, you haven't got a bad body for a guy your age," Brenda exclaimed, openly staring at his rigid cock when he pulled his shorts down. "I've never made it with a guy your age, but I've always said that age doesn't mean a damned thing. A cock is a cock, you know what I mean?"
"Sure," Scott said with a smile to hide the pain of her remark. Scott was very sensitive about his age, particularly around younger women. He worked out regularly to maintain a trim, muscular body. He dyed his hair and sideburns once a week to remove any trace of gray. He dressed young and took great pains to appear youthful in both body and mind.