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A woman on xtc at a rave is used as the crowd's sexual muse.

She spent more time bathing me than usual, and continued her monologue about her past. I just relished in the attention, and she obviously enjoyed pulling up some burried memories. As she got closer and closer to the groin part of the wash, she looked at my cock pushing the towel up, and smiled, "Are we needing our little treat again then?"

"Yes, please. It felt so good, and I would like it very much if you would do it again," I said as politely as I possibly could, without begging. Though I probably would have done that too.

"Well, we just can't leave you all worked up like this, can we?"

She pulled the towel away, and smiled at my aching hard on, jutting up from my stomach, eagerly awaiting her touch. My cock jumped a little at its release. "I was hoping you would say that."
She got up from the side of the bed and went over to the bureau to get the oil she had left there the night before. "I really enjoyed it too. It brought back so many fond memories for me, that I had locked away. It has been more that three years since my John died, and I haven't been with a man since. I guess I just forgot what it was like to hold a man's hardness in my hand, and enjoy the feeling of bringing him pleasure. It's a wonderful thing, don't you think, for two people to share the giving and receiving of pleasure. It is truly God's gift, I believe."

She went on, again rubbing the oil in her hands as she was talking, obviously remembering fond times with her husband.

"I remember some 30 years ago, when we were first married, we would make love 2 and 3 times a day. John was a wonderful lover to me. He so enjoyed my body, and I his. Our love never died over the years. We cherished so much together. I still don't understand his death. He was a good man, and never harmed anyone. I accept it as God's will, and that perhaps I am not yet supposed to understand it. But I have come to terms with it now, and I am not so sad anymore. I have such good memories."

Throughout her reverie she had sat down again next to me on the side of the bed and held my cock in her hand. I gasped at the first contact of her hand on me, and she squeezed my cock firmly in her hand. I think she was thinking back on her John and thinking I might have been him.

"You feel much like he did. Although I think you are a bit bigger here," she smiled at me, looking me in the eyes deeply and keeping a firm hold, sliding up and down slowly on my hard cock. "But you have the same need as he did, I sense. You enjoy the receiving of pleasure don't you love? We all do, I think. I just know that some men need 'this' more that others." Her word, 'this' was punctuated by a firm squeeze on my cock.

"I could see it in your eyes yesterday. The need, the urgency. I could see you tried to get closer to these too," she said pushing out her tits farther, recognizing my attempt at touching her breasts when she cleaned me up last night.

"John was the same too. He said it made it feel better when he could touch and feel me too." She became quiet for a moment, and pensive, while still slowly stroking me and looking at my cock in her hand.

She stopped then and took her hands away. I immediately felt that 'busted' feeling when caught looking at some nice breasts or ass by your girlfriend. I can't help it; it's a guy thing. I thought my treat was over, but instead Ginnie reached her hands up to unbutton her blouse and looked me in the eyes as she unveiled her brassiere holding her firm, large breasts. She pulled her shirt out of her pants and pulled the sleeves off her arms slowly. My eyes were fixed on her tits, and I could see her nipples outlined sharply against the thin material of the white, silky bra. The bra itself was sexy with lace outlining the edges and emphasized the cleavage, which was abundant. I always thought she must have great tits, even for a woman of 50 with 2 kids.

She reached behind her back to unclasp the bra and let the shoulder straps fall down from her shoulders onto her arms.

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