Far too often, I’m one of those guys who’s halfway to the door once the clock hits 4:59—I’ll admit it. And nothing annoys me more than forced socializing in the form of a company party or whatnot after regular business hours. It’s not that I don’t enjoy my coworkers or mind the occasional happy hour. But on the whole, I have no desire to sit around in my free time with the same people I am already subjected to from nine to five, five days a week.

However, my stance on after-hours “forced fun” was drastically altered about a month ago when I found myself alone with Laine.

I’m in my mid-30s and recently divorced, and I’ve spent the better part of the past year trying to scratch the many and varied sexual itches that my failed marriage never allowed me to reach. In brief: I had a threesome with two women, saw a professional dominatrix and had plenty of hookups. None of these happenings, though, can compare with what went down with Laine.

Picture a 50-year-old with timeless beauty—and not because of Botox or surgery. I’m talking about a woman with classic good looks and a natural appeal that never really goes out of style. A woman with an elegantly slender body, reminiscent of a ballerina, with long, shapely legs. Add perfectly perky B-cup tits, striking blue eyes and a brunette bob that accentuates high cheekbones. Then wrap that gorgeous package in

a fitted sheath dress with heels, and that’s Laine.

I’ve always had a thing for older women like her. But I’d never had the opportunity to act on my secret passion. And, of course, I didn’t want to risk causing a problem at work. Still, Laine and I flirted constantly, but it was mutual, low-key and playful. I merely looked and never touched. The good news is: One night, Laine decided enough was enough.

A small group of us attended a business dinner, and then afterward some of the gang decided to blow off some steam at a nearby nightclub. I almost bailed, but Laine tapped me on the shoulder and asked, “Are you in, Chris?”

She shot me a mischievous smile, and my cock stirred in my pants.

“Well, if you are, then I’ll tag along.” I replied, trying—and failing—to play it cool.

“All right, then,” Laine said almost to herself, looking pleased. Then she glanced around and addressed the group: “Let’s go!”

But as her encouraging hand gesture ushered our boisterous coworkers onward, Laine slyly hung back and flashed me another incriminating grin.

“What are you playing at?” I whispered.

“I’m ensuring we get separated from the group.”

“Oh? That’s not what I’d call a team-building exercise,” I teased.

“Sure it is. I’m just picky about my team. Let those Gen Z kids go Instagram each other.” Laine smiled. “Besides, I know the owner. I can get us VIP treatment. How does a booth away from the crowds and a bottle of wine sound?”

“Great,” I told her. “I feel like I’m a client now, and you’re wooing me.”

“I don’t mix business with pleasure, Chris.” Laine paused before adding, “But I’m done with business for the night, so what’s that tell you?”

“Oh, uh,” I stammered, then managed to say, “plenty, I guess.”

She laughed softly but playfully, then leaned in to seductively whisper in my ear: “You don’t know the half of it yet.”

“I can’t wait to find out,” I said.

We walked to the nearby nightclub, lagging far behind our coworkers.

Laine gave my necktie a coy tug and led me straight to the doorman. Less than a minute later, we were past the velvet rope and heading up the stairs to our own private booth. The cozy nook overlooked the crowded dance floor below. The VIP area was more subdued and had its own bar in the middle surrounded by semi-secluded lounging areas. Somehow the music didn’t seem so loud up there, making it easier to have a conversation.

“Wow, you really do know people here.” I looked around in admiration. “This is great.”

“I like it because you can watch everyone, but they don’t necessarily see you.” Laine leaned over. “We could close the curtains, if you’d like even more privacy.”

I laughed nervously, then I felt her hand land gently on my thigh.

“Private? Or not?” she whispered in my ear, sending chills up and down my spine.

I turned and whispered back: “Privacy sounds perfect.”

Laine leaned in and our lips met, making my cock completely stiff.

One sumptuous kiss led to another, and then Laine reached up and closed the drapes. The act sealed off our little show from the VIP area, but nothing obstructed the view of anyone looking up from below. Sure, the inside of the club was fairly dark and people would really have to crane their necks and struggle for a glimpse of us. But the reality of being with a ravenous woman like Laine left me not caring who could see us. In fact, I felt even more aroused than I had been before.

“I wanna suck your dick,” Laine said, teasing my earlobe with her tongue. “You want to feel this on your dick?”

“Oh God, yes,” I groaned. Anticipation rushed through me as I fumbled with my belt buckle. She put her cool hands on top of mine.

“Relax, I’ll take care of everything.” 

Smiling Laine then dipped below the table. In one effortless motion, she knelt on the carpet, unzipped my pants and took my pulsing member in her mouth.

“Mmm,” Laine purred. She opened her mouth and let a strand of pre-come and spit dangle from her tongue. “I knew you’d have a nice hard cock.”

I groaned and ran my hands through her hair.

Laine cupped my balls and confessed, “I’ve been wanting to nail you since the first day you were hired.”

I smirked. “Why not just ask me out for a drink?”

“Why didn’t you ask me?” Laine countered before teasing the underside of my dick with her tongue.

I had neither a proper excuse, nor the ability to articulate much at that point.

Laine’s pillowy lips kissed the head of my dick before her tongue dragged around my shaft in a slow circle. And then, she took me to an even higher heaven: She swallowed my shaft all the way down to my balls.

With one hand, I gripped the armrest so tightly my knuckles went white. With the other, I caressed her face, keeping her hair back so I could memorize the image of her bobbing up and down on my dick.

Though Laine’s mouth was well occupied, her hands were far from idle. She knew exactly where and how to touch me as her fingers explored the sensitive spot behind my balls, and she periodically stroked my spit-covered shaft when she would pull back to catch her breath.

“Oh God,” I moaned. “Laine, I’m going to come all over your face.”

She pulled away from me to say, “Oh no you don’t, mister. I’ve got plans for you.”

My heart raced as she reached for my hand. I helped her up to the banquette again, and that’s when she lifted the front of her dress and flashed her naked pussy at me. A trimmed dark triangle of hair sat above her cunt lips.

While maintaining eye contact, Laine took hold of my hand again, but this time guided it to her slippery slit.

“I want you to fuck me now, Chris,” she said directly. “Right now.”

I teased her clit and probed her wet entrance with my fingers as I told her,

“I want that, too.”

Laine licked her lips and climbed

into my lap. Without further ado, she impaled herself on my rock-hard dick.

I couldn’t believe how tight she felt, how exquisitely toned her pussy muscles were as she rode me like it was our last night on Earth. 

As she writhed atop me, I squeezed her ass and held on tight. Our mouths melded together, muffling the sounds of our moans as we kissed.

Somewhere in the heat of the moment, we knocked over a wineglass, which shattered as it hit the floor. But neither of us noticed or cared.

 Laine nuzzled my neck and teased my earlobe again as she bucked her hips.

“Let me spin around so you can rub my clit while I ride you,” she said.

She effortlessly moved into position as I mumbled, “Anything you want, baby.”

With Laine in my lap, we were blatantly exposing our lust to the crowd below, and it was exhilarating.

I’d never done anything so wild or exhibitionistic in my life. With any other woman, I’d have insisted on getting a cab to go home and fuck. But Laine was a force of nature that leveled every single inhibition in her path.

My hands roamed over her beautiful body and quickly found their way back to her pussy. I reached around to stroke her as instructed. She was riding me so fast and hard, I wasn’t sure how long I could last. So I was pleased when Laine beat me to the finish line.

Her shout of ecstasy blended with the music pumping out of the club’s speakers. I couldn’t see her face contorting in bliss, but I felt her

pussy muscles spasming around my shaft. Her pleasure appeared to increase her enthusiasm. She slammed her ass down onto me harder and harder, propelling me toward my own climax. Without a care in the world about where I was, I released my load inside Laine.

She leaned back against me, panting and squeezing my twitching dick with her pussy.

“You want to get out of here?”

“I think we’d better.” I laughed.

We hurriedly left the club, ignoring texts from coworkers who were wondering where we’d gone. They must have never looked up from the dance floor!

Laine ended up staying at my place basically all weekend. But it was back to business as usual on Monday morning.

I asked her out on a proper date, but she never took me up on the offer. I guess she got what she wanted from me.

Still, I have no regrets. Thanks to Laine, my cougar fantasy was more than fulfilled.