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<pre>
Blame it On Monica

(c) Sven the Elder - July 09

__________________

Well I couldn't blame it on anyone else!

I mean, there I was off on a course for a few days, staying in a
sleepy little archetypal English village. Next door was a pub,
next to that was the church, dating from the 1100's, next to that
another pub. One called the Swan, the other the George and
Dragon. The bed & breakfast overlooked the village green - more
typically English would be quite impossible to imagine. Except
that the housekeeper in my old English Guest-house was actually
Hungarian. About 36 - 26 - 36 Hungarian to be more precise, with
an accent that was so strong it dripped stereotype continental
sexy.

We had spoken several times on the phone, so her 'so we meet at
last' wasn't as contrived as it sounded when she greeted me at
the door. I asked about her accent - "Hungarian" was the reply -
so of course I had opened my big mouth and told her that my
forebears had also been from that part of the world. From that
point we had gotten along famously.

She signed me in then led the way to my room. I followed her up
the stairs - closely - and really had to resist the temptation to
caress the rather lovely backside in front of me. As she walked
along the landing in front of me she had stopped suddenly and
without warning and I had 'bumped' into her as she showed me the
bathroom - I got a grin rather than a complaint - then on down
the short corridor into my room. She sat on the four-poster bed
briefly, then perhaps realising what she had done blushed a
little before getting up and pointing out the 'features'. I
followed her downstairs again where she waited at the door while
I got my couple of bags in from the car.  She insisted on
carrying one of them back upstairs for me - determined it seemed
to make a fuss of me, as she told me I was the only guest and
therefore it would appear the only other person in the house that
night.

She seemed almost reluctant to leave me, though really at the
time I was more than a little tired and didn't pick up on it. It
was only later when I thought about things that I realised. I
mean, grey-haired men of over sixty do not attract
twenty-five-year-old women - except it seemed I did.

About an hour later she had brought me an unexpected 'bedtime
drink' and again, even though I was working on my Laptop, she had
lingered to chat. Again that wonderfully sexy accent. It raised,
amongst other things, the hair on the back of my neck.

Not a great deal later as I'd had a long day I turned in, perhaps
a little earlier than normal. Maybe she heard me turning off the
light, maybe not. Half asleep, I was vaguely aware of the door
opening and then closing. I felt the bed move as someone got in
beside me.

Monica said, 'Sven - I'm lonely - hold me.'   Always a gentleman
I decided I had better do so...

Now I sleep naked, and so it seemed did Monica. I discovered that
even at sixty the application of one hundred and twenty pounds
weight of naked Hungarian female to my one hundred and ninety
pound weight of naked male still has a very rapid effect on
certain parts of my anatomy. I became instantly, achingly, as
hard as nails. Monica found it with a hand about one second
later.

"Oooh! Is that for me?"

Well as there was just the two of us in the house I sure as hell
hoped so, because I would hate to have wasted it. She threw the
bedclothes back - it was summer and not at all cold - looked down
at him standing quite nicely, even though I say it myself,
illuminated by the moonlight shining in through the window.

Hungarian she was. Inhibited or shy she certainly wasn't as she
turned round, wrapped both hands round me and then followed with
her lips. It needed a lot of will power not to spoil the whole
effect right at that point, but contain myself I managed, but
only just, as illuminated in the moonlight was the most perfect
heart shaped rear - not too far away from my head, fingers and
mouth. As she attacked me, I ran my fingers gently round the top
of her legs, then round a swollen mound. God if anything she was
more turned on than I was. The moan that she made while still
trying to deep-throat me made me shudder. I eased my thumb
between her juicy, slippery lips whilst pulling her back towards
my head with my other hand. She moved her knee over the top of me
so she was now knelt with my head near that wonderfully open and
now quite drippy and aromatic vulva. Pulling her down to me, I
eased my tongue along her lips and was rewarded with a wonderful
shudder. My doing it again coincided with her sword-swallowing me
- all of me - in itself one hell of a feat - I'm not small. Even
though my mouth was somewhat full I moaned to her that I was
coming.... just as she did as well.

I think - no, I know - it was just as well we were on our own in
the house because our combined yells of ecstasy might well have
caused offence to other guests.

Monica was a screamer!

Boy, did she enjoy that orgasm! Mind you that's not to say I
didn't. She also was one of those delectable creatures that
produces copious amounts of fluid when they come and she tasted
beautiful.

As things slowly returned to a lessor plane she turned round and
smothered me in kisses - "Oh Sven, that was s-o-o good, I want
the next one inside me...."

"Monica," I said. "Hang on just a moment. I'm sixty , not a
teenager. I sometimes take days to recover!"

"No! I don't care - I will work on him now." And she slid down me
and started to lick and clean and kiss me 'back to life' as she
put it. Magician or witch? I don't really care because she did
'magic' me back to life and it seemed a very short space of time
elapsed before Monica was sliding herself down on me and I was
wearing her like a wonderfully tight, velvet glove. That most
exquisite of feelings, but the feeling of Monica slipping down me
will last for longer than most. I think she was coming on me all
the time now, making little throaty noises with her eyes clenched
shut and also pulsing round me at the same time. I moved slowly,
holding her hips and helping her slide gently up and down. She
leaned forward, hands on my shoulders, then lower onto the bed to
make it easier for me to suckle on the hard nipples crowning her
taut, straining, petite, beautifully formed breasts.

She shuddered round me in another massive orgasm and I rolled her
over onto her back, picking her legs up and putting them on my
shoulders as I deeply penetrated her and then rode her home to my
own second, intense orgasm in a ridiculously short space of time.

I fell to one side, just as well, and then Monica turned over and
lay on me - putting me back inside her. She was exhausted and
seemingly satisfied, with a happy smile on her face as she kissed
me, before snoring gently on my shoulder. Still half-hard and
inside her as I also fell asleep I could still feel little
aftershocks of her coming.

I think I'm in love again!!

My last though as I drifted off was, 'If I'm late into work in
the morning - I'll just have to blame it on Monica....'



(c) Sven the Elder - July 09

