by Guy Lilburne
I peeled down my sodden jeans and boxers and sat with some relief on the toilet. The burning brown liquid continued to poor out of me, albeit in spurts.
Suddenly, I felt the uprising of vomit forcing up from my stomach. I rose slightly from the sitting position and leaned into the sink. With a whoosh I filled the sink with my stomach contents. The offending chicken, mushrooms and bean sprouts were all there, plus a bit more besides. This was followed by the usual retching, even though there was nothing left to come up. Each wretch was accompanied by another fart that sprayed brown liquid over the toilet seat, wall and floor.
It stopped as suddenly as it started. What a mess! I couldn’t use the sink; it was full of Chinese takeaway. But at least there was toilet paper. I took my jeans and boxers off and wiped my legs and bum as best I could. God, I wished that they had a window in here, or at least an extractor fan. The smell was fucking horrible. I left my boxers in the corner of the toilet floor and wiped out my jeans. My arse was sore and looked like the Japanese flag from the burning shit. I used what was left of the toilet paper to pad between the cheeks of my arse to minimise the rubbing and to offer some protection from my wet cold jeans.
My plan now was to get back to the hotel as quick as I could. I smelled terrible but thought that if I moved quickly enough I would be past people before they realised it was me.
The restaurant owner was swearing at me in Spanish as I walked past him on the way out and he realised that I was only using his toilet. He would have thought that I was really cheeky using the toilet and then not ordering a meal, or at least a drink. He was going to be really pissed off when he went to investigate the awful smell and sees what I left in his toilet. He’d probably have to close the place.
I pushed my way through the crowds of people along the sunset bars, not stopping to look back as I heard their sounds of angst, disgust and despair at the sudden smell of shit that had engulfed them.
As I stood in the shower in the sanctuary of the hotel room, erasing the smells and stains of the evening, I couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t the best date that I had ever been on, but I was philosophical about it. I knew the risks of farting whilst abroad. It’s always a lottery and it wouldn’t have been the first time that I’ve farted and thought to myself ‘I hope that’s sweat!’ and even had to go for a test wipe.
I had been fortunate up until that night because, previously, they had all been false alarms. But the mental scars of that night have never left me and, even now, I always fart with extreme caution!
Chapter Twelve: Mid Life Crisis!
I think my own Mid Life Crisis started in my late teens or early twenties and I have never managed to come out of the other side of it! The only thing that I had ever wanted in life was the perfect romance with the perfect woman. Perfect for me, I mean! I just wanted to find the love that would last my whole life, but it just never happened.
The new Millennium seems like a lifetime ago now. My kids had grown up and I was getting older by the day. I hadn’t had a serious or long term relationship for years. I had drifted into the habit of ‘one night stands’ and discovered that there was a market for the older man. I kept getting older and my girlfriends seemed to be getting younger! I was now in my mid-forties and my days of looking ‘Tall, Dark and Handsome’ or ‘Mean, Moody and Magnificent’ were long past me. I could still talk the knickers off a nun and I certainly hadn’t lost any of my charm. But I just wasn’t the good looking young man that I used to be! I decided that the future was the internet. Online I could use my wit and charm. All the groundwork and seduction could be done before I actually met any potential partners in real life. The internet opened up a whole new world for me and I ended up meeting and sleeping with more women than I can remember. It was fun. It was sexy and it was exciting, but it wasn’t romantic. In fact it wasn’t about romance at all. It was just about sex and that was something I was good at. I was the original ’Pussy Whisperer’, so I sort of drifted into an endless stream of meaningless sexual encounters over a number of years.
Not all the experiences were so great! One lady who I got talking to looked amazing. She was dark haired and really, really pretty. I loved the photos that she sent me. We chatted online for several days and I thought that she was really funny. We talked about a lot of things, including sex and, after a few days, she invited me down to Cambridge to meet for lunch along the river and then back to her apartment for ‘afters’! It sounded like a great idea and we arranged the time and place. On the Saturday morning I drove over three hours to make the rendezvous! I sat in the sunshine at the appointed riverside café and drank a coffee while I waited for my date. It was only 11 am and there was only myself and another older lady there. As I waited for my date to arrive I was aware of the older woman looking at me. She smiled when I looked at her and I nodded. I would guess that she was fast approaching her sixties, not unattractive for her age, but certainly not in the same league as the beautiful 30 year old who I was about to meet. I took another sip of coffee.
“Hello Graham!” said the old lady.
“Jesus!” I said, trying not to look as horrified as I obviously was.
“I am Maria. I know you are Graham. I recognise you from your photos.”
“I wish I could say the same.”
“You are shocked that I am older?”
“Shocked and scared. You are not just older. You are not the same woman as the one in the photographs. You should be ashamed of yourself. I have driven over three hours to get here. Why didn’t you send me a real photograph?”
The old lady, who was obviously the real Maria, got up from her table and came and sat at mine.
“Would you have still come to meet me if I had sent you a current photo?”
“No.”
There was a long pause as we looked at each other. She smelled lovely and I noticed her finger nails; long and manicured and painted a deep red. Her eyes were a deep blue and she smiled a nervous smile. It was only slight and fleeting but I noticed it. I could see the remnants of the beautiful woman she must have once been.
“What do you mean? Current?” I asked, still trying to decide if I should be angry with Maria or feel sorry for her.
“The photographs are real and they are really me. But not so current!”
“How not current are they?”
“They were taken when I was 29 years old. That was 35 years ago.”
Now I might not be a mathematical genius, but even I could work out that that made her 64. Jesus! 64!”
“Can I buy you a vodka or something? Maybe it will help you get over the shock. I am still the same woman who you chatted with on the internet. The same woman who you laughed and chatted with, flirted with, seduced! The same woman who you told you wanted to fuck until your dick was sore!”
When she said it back to me, it didn’t quite sound as romantic or sexy as it did on the internet, when I thought I was saying it to a beautiful 30 year old woman.
“Yes. I’m sorry that I said that now.”
“We could still have a wonderful time together and you have come a long way to see me.”
“Well, actually, I came a long way to come and see the woman in the photos.”
“That is me.”
“Yes, I know. But I was hoping that you still looked like that.”
“I’ll pay for lunch and we can go back to my apartment and do all the things that we said we were going to do.”
“I’ll be honest Maria. You are over 20 years older than me and I’ve never fucked anyone older than me before. Actually, I’ve never even had a drink or been seen out with anyone older than me before. And definitely nobody who is old enough to be my mother, or have a bus pass!”
“So?”
“OK. I’ll be honest with you. Deep down I’m a very shallow person. I just can’t help it. I would ha
te every moment if I were to have dinner with you. I’d just be so conscious of people looking at me. I’m sorry!”
“You told me when I came to meet you that I was to wear dark stockings and not wear any knickers. So I did.”
I hesitated and I really didn’t know what to do now.
“OK. Let’s have a look.”
She opened her legs wider and pulled up her black lacy dress. Her pussy was trimmed, just like she said it was. She had great legs and she didn’t carry any extra weight.
“OK.” I said. “What about if we just go straight to your apartment and order a take away?”
“Deal.” She smiled a proper smile for the first time. I think it was a smile of relief. She paid for the coffees and I followed her back to her apartment. It was modern and stylish, lots of reds and blacks. As soon as we got there she peeled off her dress and took off her bra. She was actually looking better by the minute. She pushed me down onto the black leather sofa and undid the zip on my trousers. She dug her hand inside the way women dig into their handbags when they are searching for a lipstick. Obviously I had a fucking big lipstick. Anyway, she found it easily enough and pulled it out, already thick and semi-hard. She sucked it and we looked into each other’s eyes as she did. I decided that Maria was a nice old girl after all. We did all the things to each other that we said we were going to do and we had a lot of sex, which went on all day and most of the night. I had chicken and bean sprouts from the take away. I drove home the next morning and I stayed friends with Maria, but we never saw each other again.
On another occasion a couple of years later I was sitting at home. It was a warm summer evening and, as usual, I ended up on the internet. I got chatting to a lovely looking blonde girl from Essex. She told me that she was 26 years old and married, but her husband worked away and she was lonely and bored. After chatting for about an hour she told me that she had a sports car and she reckoned that she could be at my house in three hours. I thought it would take a little longer, but she was determined to prove me wrong. Her name was Samantha, but she liked being called Sam. In the photographs she sent me she looked very pretty and very busty. Sexy! That’s the word that pretty much summed her up. She was bored and I was horny, so we agreed that she would drive up to my house and we would have a night of great sex, including anal and oral, although not necessarily in that order! Just over three hours later a gold coloured sports car pulled up outside my house and Sam stepped out. She looked great. A very short denim skirt showed off a fantastic pair of legs and a tight white tee shirt made her breasts look huge. Her blonde hair was long and blew around her face in the breeze. As I opened the door and took in her full form and pretty face I have to say that I was delighted, excited and aroused. She reached out and grabbed my cock and gave it a friendly squeeze.
“I really need this Graham. Hi! I’m Sam.”
“Yes I guessed that you might be Sam. I think that I really need it too.”
She came in and I closed the door.
“I got flashed twice on the way up here” she said.
“There are a lot of perverts around these days.”
“No. I mean I got flashed twice by speed cameras, but I made it in three hours. I told you I could.”
“Well done! Do you want a coffee or something?”
“I want to fuck.”
“OK. Good idea.”
I took her by the hand and led her up the stairs to my bedroom. I had already lit some scented candles and the room looked romantic and ready for sex. I was getting harder by the second at the anticipation of a night of great sex with a pretty young lady. A pretty young lady with big tits!
“Wow! You have mirrors!” she said as she entered the room.
“No. Not really. Just the one on the ceiling and this big one along the wall.”
We undressed in record breaking time and stood naked and looking at each other. I had a ‘Semi’ on (Sort of half an erection. I have to say it’s a good look because it makes you look bigger then you really are without having a full blown lob on). Sam looked fantastic naked. She wasn’t shaved but well-trimmed and neat and her nipples were already pointing at me in an accusing manner! She went down onto her knees and sucked my cock.
“Holy fuck!” I said out loud. I think we had some sort of deep connection going on here. I was going to be charming and funny and seduce Sam, but now, with her sucking on me like a kid with a lollypop, I decided to just let things happen naturally!
She pulled my cock out of her mouth with a ‘popping’ sound.
“I want you to fuck me from behind, long and slow, make me cum” she smiled, as she climbed onto the bed on all fours and looked at herself in the mirror as I positioned myself behind her and between her legs. I pulled her arse cheeks apart and slid myself into her wet warm pussy.
Pulling her arse cheeks apart might have been a mistake! Now, I’m not saying it was Sam’s fault and I’m sure that she would have had a shower before she left her house, but it was a long drive. It was a warm night and she had a very sweaty arse. Actually, it was more like ‘Bum Butter’. You know what I mean? Not exactly sweat and not exactly shit, Now I have a very sensitive nose. I don’t like body odour and I don’t like shit, or bum butter for that matter. I was behind her and already deep inside her now, but the smell from her bum was drifting up and I was grimacing and holding my breath. Sam was watching me in the mirror and thought that I was really enjoying it.
“Go on baby, fuck me. Oh you like this, don’t you baby?”
I wanted to say ‘No. Not really’ but I didn’t say anything. I leaned back away as far as my arched back would allow me without actually pulling out of her.
“Yes baby. Take me, enjoy me, fuck me. Do anything you want to do.”
Actually the only thing that I wanted to do was to wipe her bum with some ‘wet wipes’. Then I remembered that I had some in the bedside cabinet. With my hands holding onto her waist, I pulled her around the bed between each deep thrust. She was moaning and groaning and speaking words of encouragement. She must have thought that it was all part of the love making. Finally I got near enough to lean back and open the drawer of the cabinet and take out the wet wipes. I wrapped one around my finger and started cleaning her bum with it. It took two wipes to finish the job.
“Oh wow!” she said when she felt the cold wet towel on her anus. Once I had cleaned her up I could enjoy the session without distraction and it ended up being great sex.
In the morning I made us both poached egg on toast and a cup of tea and Sam went home. We never contacted each other again, but I will always have fond memories of Sam as the pretty girl with the sweaty arse!
Another internet encounter which never ended up as a ‘happily ever after’ was with a lovely girl called Jayne. She was 28 years old when I met her and, before I tell you the story, I have to say that I have told people this story before and they usually think that I’m a terrible person because of what happened. But I hope that you can see it from my point of view. Anyway, I started chatting to Jayne on the internet. She looked amazing. Big brown eyes and long dark hair. She had a great smile and when I spoke to her on the phone I fell in love with her voice. She sounded posh and sexy and husky. Wow! What a woman! After a couple of weeks of chatting on the web cam we agreed to meet up. We already liked each other and arranged to meet up and go out to a nice restaurant for a meal. It was a Friday night. The only thing that I really knew about Jayne was that she was single and lived alone in the countryside and she worked in an office. She drove a brand new black Audi and she liked Roy Orbison. I was excited to be meeting her and I took a lot of time and trouble getting ready for the date. I had even bought a new suit, shirt and tie; green, her favourite colour. Oh! That was the other thing that I knew about her. She liked green! We arranged to meet on one of the multi-story car parks, which meant we didn’t have far to walk to bars and the re
staurant where we were going to eat. I was there five minutes early. Exactly on time I saw Jayne’s black Audi drive into the car park. She drove up to level four and parked next to me. Her window was down and she smiled and said ‘Hi’ as she parked next to me. She looked fantastic! She got out of the car and I could smell her perfume. She was very chatty and I liked her voice. She had a long black dress on.
Maybe it was all these things; the perfume, the smile, the voice, the long black dress. I really don’t know, but whatever it was, I didn’t notice something that I should have noticed. Well, I didn’t notice straight away and she had not told me about it. Notice what? I hear you ask…well, I’ll tell you.
As we walked along I could hear her clicking. Well, not her exactly, but one of her legs. I tried to look down and work out which leg was clicking, and why. The more I looked the more I could tell that she didn’t have a normal walk. One leg sort of stepped normally and the other leg didn’t. It nearly did, but it sort of swung a bit as it stepped and it clicked. I guessed straight away that it must be a false leg, but she had never told me about it. I was trying to think how I could bring the conversation around to false body parts, especially legs, without making her aware that I had noticed that she had one. I already knew, but I just needed her to confirm it and maybe even tell me why she had never mentioned it. As she waddled her way to the car park lift, and I was still thinking about how I could raise the subject, she suddenly came out with it.
“Did you notice that I have a false leg?” she asked.
“No” I lied. “Where? I mean which one, and how did it happen?”
“I’ll tell you over dinner.”
