Silly Sex Rituals
Episode 7
Danny Braun rang the doorbell and waited. It took a moment for her to answer. She was already wearing her bathrobe.
“Come in, come in,” she waved. “Let’s get you out of the cold.”
She offered tea with honey, which he accepted with a grateful smile. He sat in the living room while she was in the kitchen and took in all the photos and memorabilia.
“You’ve got a lot of cool stuff,” he admitted, blowing off the steam of Earl Grey.
“Bunch of garbage if you ask me. Leftovers from my husband.”
“Oh, you were married?”
“Yes, once upon a time,” she said, setting her cup onto the silver tray. “Feels like a few lifetimes ago.”
Danny felt comfortable, despite this being his first time alone with an older woman. He was eighteen and saving money for college. He wanted to study horticulture, like a regular Hufflepuff.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Dolores.” The words rolled right off her tongue. She loosened the sash on her robe. “I think that’s enough chit chat,” she said. “I’d like to see what you’re made of. Why don’t you remove your clothes?”
Danny looked up from the tea leaves swirling in his cup. “Like…strip?”
She nodded slowly.
“Okay.” He peeled off his socks and undid the button on his pants. Then, he paused. “Do you have any music?”
“Do I look that old?”
Danny blushed. “No! I just…”
“I’m teasing. Don’t get your panties twisted.”
Danny spotted a record player atop a rosewood cabinet and could only imagine what vintage music Dolores had on vinyl. So he was surprised when she said, “Alexa, play my Chippendale’s playlist on Spotify.”
“Hey, I’m not…”
“Hush.”
Danny wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting, but he definitely wasn’t expecting “Pour Some Sugar On Me” to start blaring from the thick black cylinder by her lamp.
Well…
He removed his shirt and involuntarily flexed his pecs. That time in the gym was starting to pay dividends.
“Come on, then. Off with the rest.”
Danny dropped trou and kicked his pants off his ankles. All that remained were his Speedo and socks. His package bulged in the tight spandex of the swimwear he had decided to wear for the occasion. He wasn’t sure how to dance to glam rock.
Dolores cackled with delight.
It became easier when Mötley Crüe’s “Kickstart My Heart” came next on the playlist. Danny’s first impulse was to play air guitar, but that felt ridiculous. He then swiped a candlestick holder from the coffee table and lip-synced, even though he didn’t know the words. Dolores clapped along to the performance.
Growing bolder with each snare shot, Danny tucked his thumbs under the waistband of the Speedo and sashayed in Dolores’s direction, tugging them down a few millimeters at a time.
“You naughty boy…”
She groped his bulge and helped the red, white, and blue fabric go over the hump.
“Bless you, child.”
“I’m 18, I swear.” Danny started to reach for his wallet before realizing he wasn’t wearing pants anymore.
“It’s just an expression.” Dolores licked her lips, which were glossy with rouge. Danny thought she smelled good for an older lady.
“Oh. Ooooohhh.” He looked up in embarrassment at the ceiling and noticed yellowed tobacco stains. He forced his eyes shut and began to imagine various baked goods, creamy, glazed, gooey, sticky, and sweet.
Without realizing it he started to run his hands through her silvery hair. Atop the table next to her recliner were the familiar orange prescription bottles, a box of tissues, and a glass of sparkling water. Except at the bottom of the glass he saw a pair of dentures.
“Oh God,” he said, pulling out.
“What is it?”
“N-nothing. I just didn’t want to make a mess.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. My cleaning lady is very good.” She opened her robe, exposing her marbled flesh. “Perhaps you can do for me a similar service?”
She spread her legs, wider than Danny thought was possible.
As if preempting his next question she answered, “I used to teach yoga. You’ll find I’m very flexible.”
“Oh, cool.”
“Now then.” She petted her landing strip. Danny noted it was the same color as her hair. With a certain reluctance, he took a knee.
“Alexa, next track,” Dolores sang.
The opening keyboard riff of “Don’t Stop Believin’” began to play. Danny felt oddly inspired and took his tongue to task. He’d only eaten out a girl once before, and she was much closer to his own age. So he didn’t quite know what to expect this time. For whatever reason, he pictured a desert scene, full of sand and grit. In reality, however, he encountered an oasis, a flowing of the Nile.
“That’s it, keep going.”
Danny lapped up the waves of her pleasure, a rolling tide of warmth. He felt quite hard again in spite of himself. After a minute or so, he stopped and murmured quietly, “I’d…kinda like to fuck you.”
“Sorry?” She craned her head to the side and put a hand to her ear.
“I said I want to fuck you!” he said it much louder than he intended.
“I heard you the first time,” she smiled, revealing a row of pearly whites. She gestured to the glass of dentures. “I’m just fucking with you.”
“Oh, okay.” Danny stood and wondered if he brought any condoms.
Again as if reading his mind, Dolores said, “You don’t need to worry about me getting pregnant, kid. I have grandchildren older than you.”
“Cool,” Danny said, because he didn’t know what else to say.
She lowered the leg rest of the recliner, sending it back into rocking mode, and then turned to face the back of the chair.
“Just enter me from behind and I’ll do the rest.”
Danny obliged.
They twisted and writhed and eventually found themselves tangled together on the floor. She bucked harder than a horse and used such salty language that even sailors were hesitant to say. Squeezing one of Danny’s pecs, she brushed back one of her silver strands, radiant, as if the exertion had rewound the clock to a few hours before midnight.
“Are you ready, cowboy?” she asked, starting an Indian war cry as she began to come.
