GON #6: Allerton Hotel

Getting Old Now

Chicago, Illinois

O’Hare International Airport

2:16 PM, CST

10/19/98

Not knowing what to expect, and in either case having not the slightest idea how to react, walking down the slight ramp into the crowded ‘Arrivals’ area...

Standing a few moments, looking about a few moments..

Looking in my direction, our eyes touching…

Wearing light blue slacks and a dark blue jacket, maybe 5’ 3” or 5’ 4”. Approaching me, the moderately heavy-set woman has short cut, dark brown hair and, coming closer, I see light brown eyes and a round, somewhat attractive face.

But she is too young to be my Barbara. But she’s smiling at me and before I can look over my shoulder to see if the smile is for me or someone else, for someone behind me...

Without hesitation, the woman’s arms are about my neck and her mouth is on my mouth and the kiss I am receiving is the kiss of long lost lovers and, leaning into the kiss, the suitcase dropped, my arms now about the juncture of her well defined waist, feeling the press of her ample breasts upon my chest, tasting the fresh taste of her mouth, my tongue touching her tongue.

Sanding in the midst of the crowded ‘United Airlines Arrival Terminal’ kissing this woman held tightly in my arms…

Fuck ‘em if they think I’m her father!

‘Barbara’! I didn’t want to let go of my Barbara.

Standing back now, looking at me, “Mitchie...”

Standing back now, looking at her, “Mitchie?” I asked quizzically. “Who’s Mitchie?”

Her mouth opening in surprise, her hand going to cover it, but seeing my smile she smiled back...

Barbara smiled her crooked smile and my heart melted.

“Hi, honey.”

Barbara’s straight, dark brown hair was brushed back partially covering her ears. Minimal eye liner highlighting her– to me now, beautiful, light brown almond shaped eyes. Barbara’s face absolutely wrinkle free, which could be the reason I thought her too young – with but a bit of ‘blush’, Barbara’s olive complexion is flawless. A straight nose perfectly suited to her face, Barbara’s lips…

‘Oh, God’!

Barbara is one of millions of average middle aged women that, when passing in the street would not relieve a second glance.. Far from thin, far from fat. Far from what might be considered as homely, yet far from what might be concerned as beautiful. Of average height, Barbara Longford – her husband of British heritage, Barbara of Italian…

Beauty! What the hell does ‘beauty’ even mean. Mitchell Lipensky had thought his wife… His now ex wife was beautiful. But, so he discovered after thirty-two years of marriage, his beautiful wife had married him only because she had – as it turned out, Marsha had erroneously thought she was pregnant with another mans baby and, ‘if’ the timing would be right ‘if’ she could have unprotected intercourse with her new husband within days after their wedding…

And they did, but she wasn’t. At least not with the other man’s baby.

...Far from what might be considered as ‘beautiful’, holding Barbara’s face in my hands. Looking at Barbara, studying the face that even in my imagination I could not begin to imagine.

Liking... Loving the face I now held between my hands…

“ ‘Hi, honey’, yourself...” I said, fighting the urge to kiss her again “...I thought you said you were shy.”

“Yeah, I am...” she answered “...but I’ve been waiting for months to do that. To ‘really kiss you.”

So much for getting ‘wrong signals’.

Looking about, “Think we better get out of here?”

Taking my hand. “Yes, lets. But we’ve got to get my suitcase.”

Walking to the United Luggage carousel. “Why don’t you

cancel your room? So long as they’re paying for mine...” Barbara said brazenly “...we might as well both use it.”

Looking at her, my heart jumping, “You really want me to?”

“Do I really want you to? ‘Oh, yeah’...” she said emphatically “... I want us to have every minute together that we can.”

Oh, God! Thank you, God!

“Thanks, honey, ‘me, too’!” I said just as emphatically.

“Check in time’s not till four...” but reluctant to release the small hand that fit so nicely, that seemingly fit perfectly within my hand “...I’ll call to cancel while you’re finding your bag, and I’ve got to use a washroom.”

Tightening her fingers, “Don’t be too long,” she said, pulling me closer, kissing me lightly.

I didn’t really need the washroom, but the real reason– putting my case onto a sink, opening it, then my shaving kit that was sitting on top, I removed the small pharmacy pill bottle and, shaking one of the little blue pills into my palm – you know, the pill that says: ‘If you have an erection lasting more than four hours contact your doctor’, Which I always thought of as the masterpiece of all advertising ploys.

Coming from the washroom, seeing Barbara still at the carousel awaiting her her suitcase, I called the hotel and canceled my room.

Day One: Together 1

Glancing at me, “This is my husband, and...” Barbara said to the desk clerk “...he decided to join me after-all, so we’d like to change our room from single to double occupancy.”

‘Her husband’. Enjoying the thought. “Yes...” I said to the clerk “...if there’s a difference in the room rate, I’ll pay it.”

I’m sure, taking me for her father rather than her husband, looking at the reservation information, “No, Mister, umm. Longford, the rate can remain the same.

Not quite three thirty. “Can we get into the room now?” I asked.

Checking a chart. “Room’s made up so yes. Yes, you can.” The clerk handed me two door keys hooked to plastic tabs reading ‘1665’.

Taking the elevator to the sixteenth floor, turning right, we walked to the far end of the hallway, to room 1665. Unlocking and opening the door, we entered our ‘honeymoon suite’.

At the airport our meeting, and kiss was spontaneous. Here, now, I felt extremely anxious. As I was positive, so too, did Barbara.

Putting the suitcase on the floor, going to the window, “Wow!” I said.

Having a corner room, we were afforded a panoramic view of Michigan Avenue. Though still gray and raining, below there were hundreds or possibly thousands of people scurrying about.

Coming to the window, standing closely behind me, “Yeah, Mitchie, great view.”

Feeling the near presence, turning from the window, “Barb,” Pulling her closer, her lips coming to mine, our tongues touched and my hand, finding it’s way beneath the bottom of her jacket, pulled the tail of her blouse from the band of her slacks and, feeling the soft, warmth of her bare back, our lips touched again and,kissing, backing to the bed, dropping onto the bed we lay closely side by side. My hand, now moving from her back, found it’s way beneath the elastic band of Barbara’s panties and, Oh, God, I held the so soft, so warm, so smooth cheek in my hand and holding it, urging her even closer, her tongue probing even deeper and her hand, now fumbling with the zipper to my fly...

“Wait, Honey” Standing, kicking my shoes off, watching as on the other side of the bed Barbara did the same.

“Baby, ever since our morning together, when you and me, uh, got together.”

Our jackets off... Barbara's blouse and my shirt. Watching as… Barbara’s eyes on me, as mine on her...

Partially lowering my jeans, along with my shorts...

Watching now as she stood in only her transparently sheer matching bra and underpants...

Not a thin woman, not a fat woman, other than the horrid memory of Helen – In my long-term memory Barbara is… Barbara is more so on the ‘matronly’ side than any woman I had ever ‘intimately’ been with…

But yet my mental and physical attraction to Barbara went beyond the appearance of visible flesh, as I had fallen in love with Barbara due to what I sensed within her heart transposed to the poetry of her soul.

A possible sign of my own ‘beyond middle-age’ growing maturity?

Because this woman – This woman that would not receive a second passing glance warmed and at the same time excited me as none had since the memory of my last intimate time with Lita.

Her eyes on me, watching now as...

Lowering my jeans along with my underpants – the little blue pill apparently doing its job – free of underpants, my fully erected dick springing into full view.

Seeing Barbara see ‘me’, I watched as Barbara unclasped her...

If I thought I loved this woman before seeing her – loving this woman all the more because...

Five feet, three or four inches tall, absolutely curvaceous, Barbara Longford has a deep waist, wide hips and...

Let me state right here and now – before my Elysium time with Lita and many, ‘many’ years earlier, Elizabeth Herzon – Marsha, my wife, was one of those eternally thin women. And…

Another ‘Confucius Say Saying’? ‘Man an always wanting that which man does not have’, my fantasy women had most often been a bit on the ‘chubby’ side.

So again, let me state right here and now, Barbara’s weight not a deterrent. The sight of Barbara’s curvy, ‘chubby’ body hardly a deterrent, actually just the opposite.

Hoping Barbara is, minimally, as attracted to me as I am to her because here I am, a sixty-four year old man who could easily afford to lose twenty pounds,with more than a bit of a belly along with a major set of ‘love handles’, and what I considered to be – after all, having some visible experience at Elysium, although hardly any guy walked around with a hard-on– I did consider my dick to be pretty much of average size.

Watching now as Barbara unclasped her bra… and let it drop to the floor…

And I remembered, along with the residual dull ache in my balls.

beachbaby.global.com

‘You like breasts,huh? Well, you’ve come to

the right gal. My breasts are kind of the

large si and natural, 100% real. I am 44

years old, not 20, so a little droop they do,

but are very soft to touch and my nipples do

excite very easily and I love when ‘you’

touch them, pinch them, pull them gently.

And suck on them. The complexion is very

light pink, the areola are about the size of

silver dollars. And if you’re interested, or

were going to ask, I still have a hairy pussy’.

Remembering..

My breath catching; drooping naturally, Barbara’s full breasts – as her written description and my fantasies – were the breasts of a mature woman, and due to her olive complexion, surprising me, exciting me, the color of her nipples a very light pink. The areola, half again the size of a silver dollar. The texture of her flesh surprisingly taut and free of any sign of age related crepe like looseness.

We’d been standing on opposite sides at the foot of the bed, now moving closer, standing but a foot apart, I watched as Barbara lowered and stepped out of her panties…

Next GON #7: Loving Barbara