A sexy older man and a nubile younger woman learn how to make beautiful music together — both in bed and out.

I took up the violin in my teens and dedicated myself to mastering the instrument. Shy by nature, I found it easier to throw all my energies into music than to navigate the turbulent waters of dating and sex. I did have a couple of experiences with guys when I went off to college, but the first man who really held my attention came along later — and he was eighteen years my senior. I met Gene three years ago, when I was twenty-two.

A friend and I were trying a new restaurant, and there he was, sitting on a stool while entertaining diners with his acoustic guitar. He had collar-length dark hair and a neatly trimmed, salt-and-pepper beard. Despite the age difference — or perhaps because of it — I found him quite attractive. And his music — oh my! I was beguiled by the sexy, Latin-flavored songs emanating from his guitar, and the soulful style with which he played them. Five minutes of that, and I was a goner.

Fueled by this sudden, intense attraction, I approached Gene between songs and introduced myself. I even found the nerve to suggest that we try playing together. Gene rubbed his beard and looked me over. I could only guess what he thought of me in my long skirt and high-necked sweater. Petite of frame but well proportioned, I tended to hide my curves in those days. “Myrna, huh?” he said at last, eyes twinkling. “That’s a very pretty, old-fashioned name. You ever see the Thin Man films?”

Guys my own age never made that connection. “With Myrna Loy.” I smiled. “It’s my parents’ fault. They loved those old movies.” He chuckled. “All right, what the hell. Drop by my studio sometime.” He scribbled the address on a napkin. A few days later, I paid him a visit. We jammed for a while, and we really clicked. Soon we were playing local festivals and nightclubs as a guitar-and-violin duo. A lot of people assumed we were a father-daughter act, especially since I look younger than I am. Gene and I joked about it, but inside, I was frustrated — not because of people’s assumptions, but because I was totally, incurably hot for him.

Gene was mature, self-confident and respectful, not to mention tall and handsome. The problem was, he had a girlfriend. I didn’t want to challenge their relationship; I valued Gene’s friendship too much. So I resolved to keep my desire for Gene private. Then, last December, everything changed. Gene seemed different during a performance for a corporate party. His guitar sounded more upbeat, his style more spirited. After the party, he told me that he and his girlfriend had split.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I replied, even as my heart leapt. “Don’t be. She and I are still friends. And I’m enjoying my new sense of freedom.” Well, you can imagine how my outlook soared. I resolved to act on my long-unrequited feelings before the month was out.

On a chilly evening three days before Christmas, we played holiday classics at the local botanical garden. Afterward, Gene suggested that we go downtown for warming cups of eggnog. “The studio’s closer,” I ventured, blowing on my cold hands. “Is that bottle of scotch still lying around over there?” Gene laughed. “Oh, I forgot about that. Yeah, I think so.”

“Well then, let’s go there.”

“You’re on.” Ten minutes later, Gene was unlocking the front door of the studio while I held an umbrella over our heads. A cold rain had begun to fall. I followed my musical partner inside and turned on the lights while he rummaged around in the control room. Soon he returned with the bottle of expensive scotch. I took off my heavy coat and draped it over a chair. I’d begun to overhaul my wardrobe after Gene told me about his breakup; tonight I wore a tight-fitting top and hip-hugging jeans. I may be a shy girl by nature, but it was high time to start showing off my assets.

Gene, eyeing my figure, tossed his jacket on top of mine. “Paper cups will have to do,” he said, sounding a little distracted. He grabbed two cups from the stack by the water cooler and poured us each a shot. I’m a light drinker, but with so much riding on that cold December night, I tossed the liquor back and welcomed the resulting suffusion of warmth.

Gene took a sip and examined the bottle’s label. “This stuff is eighteen years old.” He looked at me. “Almost as old as you, Myrna.”

“Very funny.”

“But true.” He put the bottle down. “I’m forty-three, you know. Old enough to be your father.” There was something in his eyes now, something he was probably seeing in my own. “So what?” Moving closer, I touched his arm.

“You’re beautiful,” he said softly. “And so damn sexy I can hardly stand it.” He studied my face. “Am I wrong to say so?”

I struggled to find my voice. “Are you kidding? I’ve longed to hear you say it!” Stepping into his arms, I raised my mouth to his. Our kiss was long and deep. My erotic dreams were coming true. He moved his hand from my shoulder to my breast. I took his other hand and placed it on the waistband of my jeans. He undid the top button, then the three below. A moan of anticipation escaped my lips as his fingers slipped inside my panties where he encountered the wetness of my desire. As he curved his hand around my cunt, rubbing me there with a well-practiced touch, I began stroking his erection through his pants.

That made his bulge even bigger. With sudden desperation, I fumbled with his fly and managed to get it open, but nothing could happen fast enough for me. Gene was no less eager. He scooped me up in his arms and carried me into the control room, which, though cramped, had a recliner in the corner. He set me down, clearly assuming I’d lie back, but I sat up and urged Gene to take the recliner himself. An aggressive streak I hadn’t known I possessed was taking charge, despite my lack of experience. Gene seemed to welcome my assertiveness.

I went to work on his clothes. He was like an early Christmas present that I unwrapped with selfish impatience. In seconds, his lean, hard body was bare. I kissed his mouth fiercely before planting a string of kisses down his chest and abdomen. My long auburn hair flicked along his skin as I moved south, but I’m pretty sure it was Gene’s anticipation of my ultimate destination that had him quivering in the chair. My lips followed his sexy happy trail down to his pleasure zone, and there I paused, admiring his magnificent erection. As stiff as wood and faintly pulsing, his hard-on lay against his belly, ready for action — ready for me.

Kneeling on the floor beside Gene, I lowered my mouth over the portly head of his penis and slid my lips down along the taut shaft. Gene may have assumed I knew what I was doing, but the truth was, I’d only gone down on a guy once before. Luckily, my instincts took over. Driven by a primal lust, I began to bob up and down on Gene’s fine cock, slathering it from base to stem with my saliva. Meanwhile, I used my hand to massage his balls and roll them between my fingers. I must have been doing something right because Gene began to utter words of encouragement. “Yes, baby,” he said. “Suck it just like that … ”

He flexed his hips, driving his prick into my eager mouth. I loved the way that thick rod felt as it slid back and forth across my tongue. I took the bulbous crown as far back into my throat as I could, and Gene responded with louder moans, his fingers coiling in my long hair.

Soon, though, I could not resist the aching need to get him inside me. I sat up, kicked off my shoes and shimmied out of my jeans. I pulled my shirt off next, and my bra and panties followed to the floor. Completely naked, I mounted Gene’s cock at last.

“Oh Myrna, you’re so tight,” Gene whispered. His eyes burned with desire, and his hands roamed over my body, settling finally on my breasts. His cock, meanwhile, probed deeper into my wet pussy, setting off tremors of pre-orgasmic bliss. At last I reached bottom; his entire cock, so thick and heavy, was inside me. The throbbing pulses felt exquisite. I rocked my body to and fro, grinding my clit against Gene’s groin. I guess I’d brought him pretty far along with my mouth earlier, because we’d been fucking for only a few minutes when he reached a zenith.

His eyes closed, his body tensed, and his cock erupted, filling my inner channel with come. I felt the rapid-fire spurts as I rode him; the sensation provoked my lust and made me bounce up and down in an effort to coax out every last drop. Gene squeezed the sides of my ass and bucked beneath me like a wild man as he emptied his balls into my cunt.

He began to calm down, but his cock was slow to soften. Grinning at Gene, I lay forward against his chest and kissed him passionately without relinquishing his dick from my come-drenched pussy. While my boobs mashed against his chest, I worked my hips slowly and sensually. The grinding, gyrating friction had the desired effect in no time: Gene’s cock began to firm up almost at once. I could feel his beautiful dick growing thicker and harder inside my sloppy hole with each passing second. I forced myself to continue moving leisurely atop my lover, letting my latent abilities lead me — and him — to new sexual vistas.

He ran his hands all over my body, stroking my back and flanks before settling down to caress my ass. “Your skin’s so creamy,” he marveled. “Like silk … No, like butter … ” I laughed, and he did, too, but his fondling touch on my backside was fanning the flames of my desire. I gasped when I felt his fingers probe my crack. Unable to keep myself in check any longer, I began to undulate vigorously atop his prick, which was as hard as forged steel once more. He threw his arms around my back and held me tight as he thrust up into me. I was ready now to relinquish control, and Gene seemed eager to take charge.

Carefully, without breaking our connection, he rolled us out of the recliner and onto the floor. I was on my back, with my legs wrapped around Gene’s waist. He leaned over me on locked arms and took me with passionate, almost savage ferocity. “God, yes!” I cried, clawing at his well-muscled butt as it rose and fell between my thighs. “Fuck me hard. I’ve wanted this for so long!”

He could only grunt as he pumped into me, each thrust tweaking my clit and propelling me faster toward orgasm. Soon I, too, could not speak; I could only cry out as the mounting pleasure rendered me practically delirious. “I’m — I’m going to come again,” Gene stammered. Before I felt the explosion of his warm cream, however, I came unhinged. My fingers raked across Gene’s back, and I clamped my sweaty body tightly against him as the climax overwhelmed me. We undulated against one another as he shot off inside me; it’s a wonder we didn’t rub a hole in the carpet.

Afterward, we lay there, catching our breath. I toyed with the hair on Gene’s chest, which had the same salt-and-pepper coloring as his beard. “Take me home with you,” I whispered. He smiled. We got dressed and headed for his place.

“It’s not much,” he said as he showed me around his apartment. His girlfriend had been gone a while now, and the place had the feel of a bachelor pad. I was most interested in the bed, king-sized and fitted with satin sheets. I could hardly wait to give the mattress a proper workout. First, though, Gene and I took a shower together, which was erotic in itself. Then we dried each other off and Gene gave me a robe to wear. He pulled on a pair of boxers, and we sat at the kitchen table for a midnight snack: potato chips and champagne. “We hardly drank any of that scotch,” he said.

I shrugged. “This is more my speed, anyway. And it’s a nice way to celebrate.”

“To us,” Gene said, and we clinked glasses.

But eating and drinking were not high on our agenda that night. Before long we were in Gene’s bedroom. I cast my robe aside and positioned myself, nude, on all fours on his bed. “Eat me from behind,” I demanded, offering him a randy grin. To get oral like that was a fantasy of mine, one of many I’d had about Gene in the three years I’d known him.

“Gladly.” He pulled off his boxers before crouching on his knees behind me. Only one of my lovers at college had gone down on me, so this was practically a brand-new experience — especially since Gene, unlike that boy, had years of practice on his side. He palmed the globes of my ass, and I began to tremble, anticipating his mouth on my private parts. The touch of his breath, rapid and eager, came first, and was enough to make me moan. Then I felt his beard — a little ticklish, a little rough, and a lot sexy. Finally, his tongue touched me back there, just grazing the plump lips of my pussy at first and then sliding into the groove between them. I gasped at the feeling.

“Oh, that’s sweet,” I said, my voice breathy and choked with need.

Gene’s fingers gently spread me open. The bed creaked as he moved in closer to take his fill of my cunt. Then his tongue delved once more into my dripping hole. I moaned and bucked backward to take his tongue deeper inside me. Gene, with his mouth sealed to my pussy, moaned, too, sending lovely vibrations through my sensitive flesh. He twirled his tongue inside my slot, then licked up and down my whole nether region, which made me shudder more strongly than ever. When the tip of his tongue flicked against my clitoris, I saw stars. Gene fed off my reaction and began lapping at my delicate nub with all the experience of his years. “That’s so good, so good,” I kept repeating. “You like it, Gene? You like how I taste?”

He groaned for an answer, unwilling to take his mouth away from my cunt. Then he did something I wasn’t expecting: He wetted a finger in my sopping hole and eased it into my tighter orifice, just above. I jerked with surprise, then marveled at the intense pleasure. I couldn’t believe how wonderfully sublime it felt to have my clit and my anus stimulated at the same time.

I’d been on my hands and knees up to this point. Now, with a cry of excitement, I dropped onto my elbows, which better exposed all my private bits for Gene’s debauched ministrations. He understood exactly what I was getting at. Sucking my clit with renewed vigor, he continued his probe of my ass with that wiggling finger, and let me tell you, I just about flew apart. “Yes, yes!” I sobbed into his pillow. “Don’t stop!” He didn’t, not until my shaking subsided and my climax had run its course.

I’d never come quite like that before. Breathing hard and feeling hornier than ever, I looked back at Gene with hungry eyes. “Fuck me,” I pleaded with him. “Take me however you want!”

He straightened up on his knees behind me. “I want you just like this,” he said, caressing my upraised haunches. He slotted the head of cock in my pussy and pulled my hips toward him. As that meaty shaft slid home, I reveled in the moment, remembering how long I’d waited for this night to happen. It was the best Christmas present a girl could possibly get. Gene started to thrust faster, then faster still, until he was really plowing me.

His balls slapped so acutely against my clit that I felt another orgasm building on the horizon. I reached between my legs and fondled him as he pumped in and out, which elicited a sigh from Gene. Readjusting his grip on my hips, he hammered away like a man possessed. He wasn’t so far gone, however, that he couldn’t think of other ways to please me. Without slowing the rhythm of his thrusts in the slightest, he pushed a finger into my ass again. I’d been hoping he’d do that, and perhaps more, after I’d enjoyed his digit in my behind so much earlier.

This time was even better, since I also had Gene’s fat prick sawing in and out of my cunt. “Oh yeah, you’re gonna make me come,” I cried. Gene slipped a second finger into my bottom. I couldn’t believe how fine that felt. There was really only one thing left to do, one perfect way to bring us both to the finish line. “Gene, baby,” I said, “will you finish in there? In my ass?”

He didn’t hesitate. Withdrawing his fingers from my bottom, he shifted his cock upward and applied gentle pressure to my backdoor. He was so well lubed up by my vagina that he was able to push into my ass with only a minimum of effort. “Oh, my God,” I breathed. “It feels incredible, Gene. Keep going … ”

He eased forward, and as his dick squeezed inch by inch into my virgin ass, I began to swoon with a kind of euphoric rapture. Before Gene could start to fuck me properly back there, I was coming. My fingers on my clit and the indelible feeling of fullness in my ass combined to take my breath away. I came ferociously but silently, unable to utter a sound. The climax went on and on; I was still coming when Gene began driving smoothly in and out of my derriere. He didn’t last much longer, though — my tight rear hole siphoned the cream from his balls in short order.

With a loud, final grunt, he squeezed my asscheeks in his hands and began to fire his seed deep inside my back channel. Finding my voice at last, I cried, “Give me your come, Gene! I want to feel all of your hot come in my ass!” He rewarded me with a copious load indeed. When he pulled out, some of that milky semen dribbled out, too. It was an incredible end to the day. Gene and I are still together, making music — and love — at every opportunity.

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