My Fourth Single Life (Part 1)

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She was 38 years old, of medium height, and full-figured. When we first met, she was riding an electric scooter. Although we only exchanged a few words, I still managed to get a good look at her.

She wore black stilettos and brown stockings, giving her a reserved and composed air—the epitome of a mature woman.

Her calves weren't thick, but her thighs, encased in her short skirt, were quite full. Because she was sitting on the scooter, I couldn't see her buttocks, but my gaze was quickly drawn to her ample breasts. Based on experience, I knew they were at least a C cup, but I later learned they were actually a D cup. Her arms weren't slender, which was probably related to her full figure.

Her skin was quite nice, not particularly fair, but smooth. Her smiling face gave off a friendly feeling. Her brown hair wasn't long and had some small curls. Overall, she was fashionable but not ostentatious, perfectly matching my image of a mature woman. It was clear she didn't dislike me.
In the afternoon, she came online as scheduled. We both knew each other's intentions, so there was no need for words. We shared our feelings for each other, and she marveled at my keen observation skills in such a short time. I made no attempt to hide my compliments on her ample breasts.

She confessed that she used to feel resentful about her large breasts, never expecting that something that troubled her would become an advantage that attracted men.

I asked her how she felt about me, and she said she wasn't averse to me, which showed she was a very genuine woman. We eagerly agreed to meet again the next day, the purpose of which remaining unspoken.
The hotel was cozy, and the quiet wait made time seem endless. But the feeling of waiting was pleasant; it allowed the excitement to build gradually, fermenting until it exploded the moment we met.

She knew I liked stockings and high heels, so she had specially changed into black stockings again, along with the same high heels from yesterday. She had also applied light makeup; the pale red lipstick made her face appear slightly whiter. She was still a little shy, saying it was her first time.

I believed her reaction; I could tell from her reaction that when I hugged her tightly for the first time, she trembled uncontrollably.

Emotions built up little by little, and finally, I slipped my hand inside. She didn't want me to see her body, but it was daytime, how could that be possible? So she asked me to draw the curtains and turn off the lights, which I did. But the daylight was still enough for me to see every detail of her body. I laughed at her for burying her head in the sand, and she could only close her eyes and deceive herself.
Stripped of all pretense, her body was dazzlingly white. I knew it was psychological; her D-cup breasts were slightly sagging, a problem all mature women face, but it didn't diminish the pleasure of playing with her.

In fact, it proved not only not to affect the pleasure, but also greatly enhanced the experience of another kind of pleasure. I kissed her, and she sang excitedly and joyfully. The stimulation of her voice was intangible yet boundless, exciting every cell in my body.

Her hands groped, searching, exploring, exploring the body of a stranger. She considerately opened her mouth, allowing me to fill it; the feeling was like an electric current coursing through every nerve in my body, leaving me wanting more.
Although I was captivated by her mouth, I didn't want to indulge myself and ignore her needs. So I rolled over. Her mouth was incredibly flexible; her legs were spread apart, her lower legs bent, almost flat, forming a perfect "M."

When a woman can show herself to you in this position, what can't you do? So what's there to hesitate about? Nothing.
She was moaning so passionately during her climax that I was even worried someone outside the door might hear us. But I couldn't bear to suppress her pleasure, nor did I want to miss out on my own. So, we flew together to the peak of pleasure, and at that moment, the whole room seemed to take flight.
After resting for a while, I got up and went to the bathroom to wash up. She then offered herself to me again, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Although twice isn't much, the intervals between sessions are indeed a bit tiring, and the anticipation for that thing gradually diminishes after satisfaction.

That's why we parted reluctantly. Before leaving, she kissed me. I think she'll come back, even though she said she only wanted to experience it once.
In the afternoon, we chatted online about how it felt. She seemed very comfortable; the two blissful experiences had given her a long-lost and rare moment of pleasure. I told her I wouldn't be checking out of the room until noon the next day, and I suggested we go again the following morning. She agreed without hesitation.

I said I'd like to try touching her breasts, and she said yes, if she liked it, but she wasn't sure how. I said it might require lubricant, and that lubricant could also be used in another way. She hesitated a bit, but still agreed to give them to me and offered to buy some herself.
The next day, she brought lubricant and a box of condoms. However, I didn't have much experience with that kind of thing, and seeing her still seemed a bit resistant, I didn't try it. I just used the lubricant to test the feeling on my breasts.

Overall, it was mostly novelty, and the actual sensation wasn't as good as oral or genital stimulation. But this kind of experience is worth trying in life.

With the first time as a foundation, she was much more relaxed this time. It was clear she was a very outgoing woman, so she wasn't particularly passive in sex. I've always felt that women are more attractive when they're more proactive, and she was exactly like that.
In just a few days, we became quite familiar with each other. She didn't have to work, so she could spend most of her daytime online with me. We talked about how we could enjoy ourselves and what experiences we could have together, which made her heart flutter and she seemed to have forgotten her initial thoughts. When I said I wanted to again, she told me without hesitation that I could.

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My Fourth Single Life (Part 1)

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