Her Silent Hand

He sat at the far end of the bar, nursing his third drink of the night. Seth was in the city, at this hotel, for an IT convention for his job, which he enjoyed. What he didn't were the long trips away from home, his wife, his kids. He missed them, missed Jennifer's warm embrace and loving ways. He'd had plenty of opportunities for dalliances on the road, being a handsome, 25-year-old, but never realizing them.

Tonight, though, he was hornier than usual, probably because with the kids being so young and all, his sex life had diminished considerably, usually relegated to rare, hurried moments at home when the children were out at activities or in school. They weren't the satisfying encounters of their child-free days, stolen moments here and there, forbidden trysts at the beach or on a hike. Fun times not that far gone but at this moment, in Seth's mind, so tantalizingly memorable as to make him ache for their return.

So when she walked in to the bar about a half hour before closing, he couldn't help but take note. She was tall, elegant, beautifully dressed – and rather old. This silver-haired vision with a black dress, clingy and revealing, with dark nylons on muscular legs and mid-calf leather boots, looked to be 60 at least, maybe older, but ravishing in her classy look and slender, firm body.

He sat alone in the small bar, watching her stride to it the other end, and saying nothing to Jeff, the middle-aged bartender, pointing to a lone bottle on a high shelf. Jeff nodded with an appreciative smile. He fetched the expensive single-malt whisky she'd apparently ordered, serving it neat. She took it without a word.

Jeff walked Seth's way.

"We're closing soon, will you be having another?"

"No, no, I'm good, thanks, I'll probably just finish this...well, maybe in a few minutes."

"I have some work to do in the back, be back around in a bit, just let me know," he said affably before walking into the back room.

Seth watched the elegant lady tip her drink, making out in the bar's dim lighting a slightly craggy face, wrinkled and worn, a delicate patchwork of puckering flesh around red lips as she sipped. Maybe it was the liquor, he thought, or the recent absence of lovemaking in his life, be he was instantly struck by how incredibly sexy she was. Her dress was cut low in front, cleavage warm and inviting, a furrow of slightly wrinkled, tanned flesh dipping into mystery. Her backside hugged the material of her dress, a sleeveless one, and he watched her forearm tendons dance as she drank, a slight jiggle of upper arm flashing in the dark.

She looked at him, green eyes surrounded by crow's feet. She said nothing, only nodding toward the seat next to him. Momentarily immobilized by the request, he found his senses and with a wave of his hands and a smile, signaled his welcoming intent. She strode over, confidently, never taking her eyes off him. She approached and he pulled out the seat to his right. She slithered in, putting the drink and cocktail napkin on the bar, looking straight ahead mindlessly at the TV above the bar back and whatever game was on.

"Uh, hi," he said somewhat uncertainly. "My name's Seth. What's yours?"

Silence. She tipped the drink to that puckering mouth, sipped, put it back down. He didn't even notice her left arm move until he felt her fingers spreading on his right thigh. He jumped nervously. She dug those fingers in. He looked down, the nails a sexy red as she wiggled them, massaging his thigh halfway up.

"Uh...well...now..." he stammered nervously. "That's...uh...well...."

She continued to work his thigh in her surprisingly strong hand, never looking at him, not smiling, just looking blankly at the TV. He gulped, looked closely at the prettiest older woman face he'd ever seen, chiseled features, high cheekbones, a dangling diamond earring. She sipped more of her drink with her other hand, Seth noticing the undulating flesh on that superbly wrinkled throat as she swallowed. Her other hand continued to work its way up Seth's trembling thigh until it brushed the cock stiffening above.

"Well, miss...uh, ma'am...you, uh...what's...what's your name?" he mumbled, watching the little finger of that hand come so terribly close to his cock.

She said nothing and now moved her hand directly to his stiff prick encased in the slacks his wife had bought him a week ago. She oh-so delicately traced over it with her fingernails, teasing it, tickling it, drumming her fingers on it with the gentlest of touches.

"Holy shit," he groaned. "Ma'am...lady...uh, I'm not sure..."

And he wasn't sure. At this moment, he wasn't sure at all. But just then, as he thought of his loving wife, this sexy senior citizen's fingers dug a little harder on his dick, encircling it, pressing it with a hardening grip. Seth gulped and squirmed and suddenly, as she slowly, agonizingly slowly, stroked his cock in the slacks his wife bought him, all thoughts of Jen mercifully slipped his mind.

"Sweet Jesus," he moaned, watching the sexy tendons in her forearm dance under tanned, leathery skin as she moved her hand up and down.

He looked up. For all the world, she looked like a random stranger sitting at a bar, having a drink late at night, nothing unusual at all. For all the world, she looked like a sexy grandmother, alone with her thoughts, a pensive look on her handsome face. For all the world, nothing was out of the ordinary.

For Seth's world, this was all he knew in the sudden, unexplained here and now. As she moved her hand up to expertly unfasten his belt, unsnap his pants, and slowly unzip them, his world was intently focused on that silent, proficient hand.

She said nothing, and neither did he, dumbstruck, as she fished his cock out of his underwear and encircled it in that elegant, small, somewhat bony hand. He could only look down in the darkness at his lap and watch those tendons ripple under her hand's skin as she stroked him.

He moaned, quickly looking around to ensure the emptiness of the quiet bar, then at her. That face, superb and well worn, looked straight ahead, but as she stroked his cock, her own sexual urging was evidenced by gently biting her lower lips, eyelids slowly fluttering.

"Shit," he thought to himself. "She'd getting off getting me off...goddam...this isn't happening, this isn't happening...."

She jerked him a bit harder now, more urgently, biting that lip with more intensity, never taking her eyes off the TV, unseeing whatever mindless sport from somewhere in the world was playing there. Seth felt his balls knot, knew his orgasm was close.

The bartender suddenly stepped from the back room, wiping his hands on a towel, smiling at them. He couldn't see what was going on, the bar was fairly high and deep, distancing him from the couple before him. She never looked at him, nor slowed her insistent stroking of Seth's drooling cock.

"Last call, kids, anyone up for another?"

"Uh..." Scott said, attempting coherence.

The woman tapped the rim of her now-empty glass with a fingernail of her free hand, the delicate bell ring of fine crystal chiming in Seth's super-sensitive ears. She then pointed to Seth's glass. The bartender nodded and trundled off to make the two drinks.

"Jesus Christ, lady!" Seth said in a hoarse whisper. "Maybe you should ...should stop...for a minute...slow down...something...."

The smallest of smiles crossed her lips. She tightened her fingers in a ring around Seth's cockhead, the index and middle finger on its underside, thumb meeting them to complete the circle. Now, she didn't stroke, but only gently, excruciatingly slowly, pulsed them. They were tiny but emphatic little jolts that brought him close.

The bartender returned with the drinks. The woman nodded, picking up the fresh drink as he walked away with the empties, putting them in the dishwasher, taking his time, then walking off again, to the back room.

Seth realized he was out of air. He'd stopped breathing the entire time the bartender was in the room, in their world, this bizarre little sphere of spontaneous sexuality. She kept pulsing her fingers on his cock, harder now, biting that lip again and he noticed a slight squirming as she wiggled in her seat. He watched, looking down. Her dress had ridden up to reveal those spectacular, nylon-clad thighs pressed together, squeezing, the exquisite outline of older-woman muscle barely visible to his disbelieving eyes. He imagined her pussy, likely full and furry, getting wetter with each squeeze, with each pulsation of her hand, those magic fingers, on his cock.

"Oh, God...lady...I'm gonna....shit... I'm gonna...." Seth heard himself saying.

Then he did, they both did, Seth's cock jetting a thick roping series of cum as those fingers danced on his cock, and he sucked in his own lips, biting down to stifle his own moans, and in the ensuing silence, heard the splash of sperm on the bar front below them. He turned his gaze to his right and saw her beautiful eyes closed now, lids fluttering madly, that sexy patchwork of crow's feet around them deep and creased. He'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

She made no sound as she came, those thighs clenching and unclenching, it just happened and ended the second Seth's orgasm did. She stopped the pulsation of her fingers and now slowly twisted them around his sensitive head, sending tickling sensations coursing through it and his entire body. He giggled like a school boy as she worked her fingers on his wilting cock, and felt the remnants of his load coat them.

He gulped loudly, trying to make sense of the senseless, and watched, transfixed, as she finally lifted her hand from under the bar. Her forefinger and thumb were coated with cum and she, still looking straight ahead, lifted them to her face, closing her eyes and smelling deeply, inhaling slowly, a slight smile on her lips. She exhaled just as slowly.

She looked straight ahead still as she moved her hand to her left, directly in front of Seth's stunned face, holding it there, his fluid lumpy and shining in the dim light. Seth's eyes widened and he did something he'd never done before, nor thought of doing, driven by her unspoken request he do it: He leaned forward and licked her fingers, tasting his own cum, feeling an exhilarating mix of submissive humiliation and unrelenting lust, lapping at them, swallowing, wanting it all and wanting more. As he did, her incredible body almost imperceptibly shivered and he felt those shivers terminating in the fingers at his mouth.

She slowly pulled her hand from his face, still looking straight ahead. Seth sighed, stuffing his cock back in his pants, zipping up, taking his time and trying to figure out what to say, realizing the pointlessness of it. She'd said nothing throughout the bizarre encounter, her silence deafening and exquisitely sexy.

She used those still shiny fingers now to lift her drink, slowly draining it, a light from the far side of the room silhouetting her, highlighting the most delicate of hairs on her arm and hand and neck, the flesh on her throat pulled tight as she tilted her head back to swallow. Seth watched her impossibly sexy throat and wanted more than anything to nuzzle his mouth there, to lick the wrinkled, soft meat of it, to taste her saltiness.

For a fleeting moment, he thought she'd lead him to her room where they'd spend the night making mad, silent love, but then realized that would never be as she put her drink down just as the bartender returned.

"OK, kids, closing time," he said, hands on the bar. "Separate checks or one tab?"

On the hand that had just drained from Seth the most intense orgasm of his life, she twisted the shiny forefinger to her left, indicating the young man. The bartender got the silent message and quickly retrieved the check, placing it before Seth. With shaking hand, he signed it to his room.

Seth started to speak, but she rose, never looking at him, turning on sexy boots to walk away, Seth's eyes staring, longing after her as she walked out of the bar, disappearing into the night as silently as she'd arrived...