It's not worth it

I walked by the university and in the philosophy faculty I saw many beautiful women. Now I'm old and can only talk about memories, but it was the era of hippies, the Red September of Con Benditt, and free love, which were the reason for our existence back then.

I went out with beautiful, ugly, and all types of women. But generally we remember those who couldn't achieve anything more. I was dating a friend from childhood, Artana, a woman not only adorable but also untouchable to our freedom back then. She wouldn't give in to anything. There were times when everything got settled with poetry, and I had written a sonnet that she delicately pinned on the headboard of her bed one day.

Life passes like everything else, and I left to live in another part of the country and never saw her again.

About five years ago, with the appearance of social networks, I found her name and tried to contact her. Exactly, she responded instantly, not only that but also recited the lost sonnet's text as if it had been memorized for eternity.

Then she gave me her email and phone number, and we exchanged emails and calls, even though we lived far apart, we agreed to meet at an intermediate point. It was like in old times.

The reunion was cordial and fun, full of anecdotes and details from the past, we had a blast. I left her near her house late at night, knowing that both of us were divorced.

We kept exchanging emails and phone calls until one day she invited me to lunch at an intermediate point between Buenos Aires and La Plata. I prepared like a madman for that day, but honestly, a pinch on my back made life unbearable. I injected a powerful medication to avoid the pain and as I was limping due to my back, I got into the car as I could and headed to our meeting.

The food and conversation continued in the same tone of joy and confessions, where well-being was mutual, until my back started to feel the unbearable possibility of sitting down. I told him and suggested going to a hotel accommodation and continuing to chat since that would allow me to be more comfortable.

- Do you want to screw? He said
- We're both over sixty, so I thought this proposal wouldn't involve sex, although it wouldn't leave out if possible

Thus we embarked on an unreturnable journey to a hotel accommodation. We took a room, I undressed in bed and she started to undress. She was really over sixty, but she was a thin, well-cared-for, and beautiful woman. She knelt down next to me and started caressing my cock through my jeans. The zipper flew open when she was sure it was okay and exposed herself, clamping her mouth directly onto my gland, releasing a sigh from my part, which showcased the repression I had felt as an adolescent.

I undressed and she mounted me, riding me and filling my mouth with kisses and my hands clenched tight as if trying to show that she dominated. The hotel bed furiously creaked as we moved over my cock, caressing it. I saw her throw her head back and release multiple orgasms. When I felt her agitation and palpitation at the limit and I was on the verge of cumming inside hers, she stood up and again took my cock in her mouth, leading me until I finished profusely in her mouth. With the cum in her mouth, I looked defiantly at her and she swallowed it, then gave me a long tongue kiss where my flavor was present due to the amount of semen she had extracted from her activity.

This festive atmosphere and the fact that we had had such productive sex indicated that for two free people we could make the most of these moments in our third age.

It was thus that we went out several times, but it was always her desire to swallow the cum that was draining my energies.

One day, she asked me to meet her in La Plata and I picked her up like other times on a path near From her house. She asked me to take her to a La Plata hotel accommodation, something I didn't know any in her urban context, if the ones nearby. I walked the streets trying to find one until I found one that was really disastrous for both of us when we entered, she didn't say anything, undressed and started doing her thing as always until I could cum in her mouth, which this time had been with extreme fury. We stayed embraced until the unbearable hotel environment indicated it was time to leave there, let's say running away. As a strange thing, she asked me to leave her at her house door. I understood that the day had been anxious and disappointing, so I wouldn't want to walk. But everything was the opposite, on the doorstep she gave me a long explanation of why she didn't want to see me again. She showed me her house and asked me not to write to her or call her anymore. I did it like that. Just as she appeared, she disappeared from my life again. Sometimes I browse her activity on social media, but in vain, since I tell myself: it's not worth it...