Lisa’s hand tightened around my cock. I moaned and she stroked faster. I hold her closer to my body as we lay in bed. She stared at me intently, her lips close enough to kiss.
This is when I truly understand how much older she was. It wasn’t from the lines in her face or the crow’s feet around her eyes but from the skill of her experienced hand. Confidence danced in her eyes as she watched me. She stroked me faster when I moaned, squeezed tighter when my body arched, and added a little twist when my eyes clenched.
This morning Lisa was a wise woman taking me on a guided journey of the wonders of my own body. She transformed the act of masturbation from a release of tension to a roller coaster of sensation. She was teaching me things about desire that I would never forget.
Her eyes never left me as I climaxed. A smile broke across her lips and the years melted away. She laughed like a teenager as I made a mess in her hands.