The extremely hot older woman I’d been admiring had finally finished her glass of red wine. I’d sidled over to offer to buy her another, like I’d been waiting to do for 20 minutes. She asked my name. I was flustered and blurted out my nickname — and she laughed. I wanted to go crawl under a rock.

Crestfallen, I started to shuffle away from where she sat at the bar. Her hand came down on mine, clamping it to the wooden bar top. She was surprisingly strong.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “That was rude. I’ve just never met a man who was named… Beaver.” Her voice was cool. She teased out the words in a kind of hypnotic way.

“My friends call me that. I don’t much like my real first name,” I explained.

Her hand was still on mine as she replied, “May I ask what it is?”

“Uh, Edgar.”

“That’s a lovely name. But if you prefer Beaver, so be it. I’m Nicole.”

I asked if I could buy her another glass of wine. She peered at my beverage.

“What are you drinking?”

“Chai.”

“I’ll have that.”

I ordered her tea, and just like that, we were sitting together, chatting and sipping chai. Up close she was still super-hot. She had a shapely body with nice tits and a face like a model’s. She was at least 15 years older than me, but that didn’t matter. Or if it did matter, it only made me more interested. I was tired of head games with chicks my age. I wanted to know if older women really did cut through all the bullshit, since they knew exactly what they wanted.

It was fun talking to her. She was damn smart, very witty and had endless stories to tell from a life lived to the fullest.

I lobbed a few flirty lines at her, and she came back with better ones. A heat grew between us, and my cock stirred. By the time we were finishing our teas, she suggested we take our “tête-à-tête” back to her apartment. I decided not to embarrass myself by asking what a tête-à-tête was.

But there was something I had to ask: “Why did you laugh at my name? Beaver. Was it because of the old TV show or the slang?”

Her sensual lips, which I couldn’t wait to kiss, curled into a smirk as she said, “Oh, I was totally thinking pussy.” Her eyes held mine, like she was waiting to see if I would take offense.

I didn’t. I liked that she said pussy, like it was just an everyday noun. We got out of there and were at her place in ten minutes.

If I was wondering where things might go, Nicole put all that to rest by grabbing hold of me just inside her front door and mashing her lips against mine. Her tongue thrust forward and tangled lusciously with my own. It was as straightforward and determined a first kiss as any I’d ever experienced. We frenched like crazy for a solid two minutes.

Suddenly, she broke our lip-lock and said, “Naked. In my bedroom. Now.”

I eagerly followed her down the hall. She shed clothing as she strode ahead — jacket, blouse, bra, skirt — until she was kicking off her heels and snapping her panties down her beautifully molded legs.

I fumbled clumsily at my own clothes and had to pause by the bed to finish stripping. Apparently, I was a touch too slow for her. As I was peeling off my shirt and toeing off my shoes, she knelt and yanked my jeans and briefs down my legs.

When my cock sprang out in front of her face, it didn’t surprise her in the least. Half embarrassed and half insanely turned on, I gaped at her as she beheld my erect rod.

I felt her breath on my dickhead and shivered with delight. My cock got harder still, until it jutted out like a length of mahogany. Her nimble tongue darted out and flicked against my crown.

She stood, took my hand and guided me onto her bed. We lay down together. Her skin seemed to glow, a flawless landscape of erotic promise. Her breasts, free of her bra, were firm and lovely. Her body looked like that of someone half her age.

We clung to each other, and our mouths met again, the kiss fiercer this time. She squirmed against me as her hands roamed over my body. I caressed her back, down to where the base of her spine met her ass. I squeezed each cheek appreciatively, and she moaned into my mouth.

My cockhead was still tingling from that single quick touch of her tongue. I wondered if she would go down on me. But that put a different thought in my head. When she broke our kiss again, I moved down to lick her throat, then shifted further and sucked her tits, flicking her responsive nipples with my tongue. She groaned with pleasure.

But my southward journey had only just begun. When I’d coaxed her nips to diamond-hard stiffness, I moved lower still. I kissed my way across her toned belly. She got the idea, rolling onto her back and opening her legs. I slid down between her thighs, loving how our encounter was progressing. No awkward negotiations, no unsure steps.

She draped her thighs over my shoulders, and I gazed on the glistening groove of her fur-capped pussy. Her beaver. I have to admit that all of the pussies I’d encountered previously were clean-shaven, but now it was obvious where this breed of beaver got its name.

I breathed on her, and she wriggled. Already I had inhaled her enticing aroma. I swiped my tongue along her slick flesh and got my first delectable taste of her. I trailed my tongue tip up and down her slippery furrow.

When I delved inside, her hips bucked.

“Yes!” she cried out. “Tongue-fuck me!”

No bullshit at all. I loved it. I drilled her deep with my tongue. Her flavor filled my mouth. She was pulsing and wet and so alive with excitement. She humped against my face, shameless — wonderfully so — in her unabashed desires.

With her taste filling my senses, I next focused on her clit, which responded like a sexual panic button. I pressed it again and again until she was moaning loudly. Her wild sounds filled the air, and her legs tightened around me. With a final howl, a surge of her juice coated my tongue.

When I rocked back, she heaved forward. She grabbed my head in her hands and sent her tongue racing back and forth over my lips. She sucked her pussy juice off my tongue and grinned fiendishly. Incredible. I’d never had a woman do that before.

Next, I found myself on my back with Nicole squirming down between my legs. Her hand cradled my balls, sending pleasure racing through me. Then her mouth dropped onto my cock, and the ring of her sensual lips went straight down my shaft. I groaned, and my hips bucked, jamming my cock deeper into her mouth. She took me fearlessly into her throat with a low moan that rumbled within my nutsac and almost made me shoot my load.

But somehow I held on, so I could experience the full gamut of ecstasy. She was an amazing cocksucker. Her mouth gripped me with the perfect pressure. Her head bobbed at an expert rhythm. She deep-throated me with every plunge, and I wallowed in bliss.

She knew when to pull away. I grinned, looking up at her through an erotic haze as she climbed onto me. My spit-wet cock awaited her. She impaled herself and took me up into her molten core. Her movements were sprightly. She worked like a gymnast, all light, flexible muscle and agile joints.

Her palms planted themselves on my chest, and she ground hard on me. I thrust up into her, matching her tempo. Excitement was skittering all over my body. Every centimeter of my flesh buzzed with a gathering elation. Her face rocked above mine. I saw the telltale signs of age there, but there was nothing off-putting about them. She had lived. She had earned those subtle laugh lines.

She was beautiful, and we were fucking. The simple blunt reality of that swept me up. The night had been so candid, so honest.

A great shudder wracked her body. She wriggled wildly atop my cock, and I almost tumbled with her into that orgasmic wonderland. When the waves of pleasure faded, she scrambled off me. She lay on her back, wantonly leering up at me, and ordered, “Pump your come into me!”

I mounted her and began stroking away, holding nothing back. I repeatedly slammed down onto her, drilling my cock all the way. Her cunt clenched me at her deepest point. Her smooth, wet heat grasped me. My whole being was sent into overdrive.

Our bodies smacked together. Our scents filled the room, a carnal fragrance of excitement and fulfillment. Her body rocked, meeting my plunging cock. My balls slapped her flesh.

The age gap between me and Nicole meant nothing and everything all at once. She possessed the experience and emotional centeredness I had been unconsciously looking for all my adult life. I had only ever been with women my own age. But those thoughts went flinging away. The primal sexual event brought heat into my eyes, so that my vision went wavy. My balls tightened, and a final tension snaked through my body until a ragged cry came from my mouth.

Beneath me, Nicole thrashed and grabbed a bonus climax. Her writhing motions accompanied my ultimate moment. My jizz shot out of me with huge, powerful spurts. Each spew was like some great god-hand taking and shaking me, bringing forth my deepest pleasures.

What I mean to say is: It was one fuck of an orgasm!

When the last bolt of spunk was shot, I lay atop her and she put her arms around me. She tenderly kissed my temple.

Brimming with happiness and gratitude, I murmured, “That was fantastic. Nicole, I love that you don’t do bullshit like girls my age.”

She seemed to know what I meant and answered, “Well, Beaver, bullshit is a two-way street.”

In that simple statement, I heard truth. I told her, “You’re smart — and call me Edgar.”

Lying there, a new excitement kindled in me. I was still balls-deep in her pussy.

“Age brings wisdom, Edgar.” She must’ve felt my cock slowly re-stiffening inside her because she smirked and added, “But youth has stamina!”