Understanding Kate

Babes

I know, that looking back, there is no excuse for my actions. But I have been thinking about Kate for almost five years to the day and there was something about her that bothered me. It kept niggling at the edges of my conscious mind and I had to do something about it. Kate and I dated about five years ago. We were both around forty-five years old at the time. It was an on and off relationship that lasted for about five months; though I fancied the pants off her on the first date. Kate’s breasts were just the right size and I loved them. She was voluptuous, definitely not the slim type, but then, I didn’t go for the skinny type anyway. She was tall, but just under my height. She had an adorable Scottish accent and I loved the way she talked and laughed. She was intoxicating and I was looking forward to getting inside her knickers, that is, if I got that far.Our first few dates resembled the type that teenagers’ experience, which with our advancing years, brought a smile to my face every time. We always met at a pub or bar or the occasional restaurant halfway between our respective houses. We chatted and laughed a lot, and exchanged the obligatory sexual innuendo every now and then. Sometimes, our conversations got heavy. Eventually, even in new relationships, you get to the point where you have to know about all the past relationships. How they went? Who finished with whom? The usual stuff.I came to the conclusion pretty early on, rightly or wrongly, that Kate was a little naïve as far as relationships went. She had one failed marriage, no children and a sketchy sex life, to say the least. I, on the other hand, had just come out of a relationship with a swinging lifestyle but was not eager to get back into it. I was looking for someone that was normal and I thought Kate fitted my conceptualisation of normality.On the first few dates, we would often walk to our cars and decide whether another date was in order. Eventually, we exchange a few kisses before leaving each other with a firm date in the calendar. I loved placing my hands on her waist and tried every trick in the book to cop a feel of her gorgeous breasts. Even a glancing blow would have been enough, but she seemed to know what I was up to all the time and always managed to stop me with a well-placed hand on my arm and a knowing smile on her face. We managed to fit in some very memorable dates and it’s always good to know that someone wants to meet with you again, perhaps take things further. My type of further, however, was a long way off in Kate’s mind. I would have been happy to fuck her brains out on the first date. I would have been in my element with my hands fondling her large dangling breasts as they bounced beneath her cinsel bilgiler with my cock pounded her from behind. Unfortunately, I seemed to masturbate to that scenario more and more as time went on and it had to wait quite a while before it became a reality.Our later dates confused me. They consisted of us having a drink or two in a pub, even though we both had to drive. We used to leave the pub for the comfort of one of our cars where we sat together in the front seat and chatted some more. The talking turned to kissing, the kissing to fondling. It was strange and surreal, to say the least. Kate did allow herself to feel my growing cock over my trousers, but she giggled while doing it and would not reach inside at all. Her whole demeanour was almost girlish. She would allow me to do the same to her, but again, I was not allowed to reach inside her jeans and fondle her pussy through her panties. She would often close her eyes while panting and shake her head left and right. Then, without warning, she would bring herself back to her senses swiftly and tell me that we shouldn’t be doing it. I was allowed to feel her breasts under her jumper but over her bra. Make no mistake about it, every aspect of our time together perfectly described a teenager’s typical first attempts at dating. The talking, the finding out about each other, the fumbling in the car afterwards, the leaving each other intact to drive each other home, on our own, in separate cars. At forty-five years of age, I thought those days were long gone. Whatever happened to, ‘let’s go back to my place and fuck – shall we?’Kate and I behaved like this for far too long. But I was smitten with her and I wanted her. I was prepared to put up with all her foibles. The more we explored each other in the pub car parks, the more I began to think that it was the risk of being caught that was turning her on and not the fondling. I began to think that she was getting a sexual rush from the whole scenario; as if she was wishing someone would come out of the pub and catch us. On one occasion they did, it was giggles all around the car; complete with pulling her jumper down and glancing behind until the person had left in their own car. I didn’t understand Kate at all. I have to admit it. In other relationships, I would be licking pussy within two or three dates minimum. The women would generally have been intrigued enough to want to know whether my tongue was actually that good. For the record, it is.Kate didn’t seem all that bothered about my tongue, or cock for that matter. At one point, I even wondered whether she was transsexual, which may have explained her shyness at exposing herself cinsellik bilgileri fully to me. I parked that thought as all her other aspects didn’t bear it out.Our relationship did eventually become more normal. We did eventually stay with each other on weekends. I think it was me that suggested she come down to mine and stay over on the Friday night. She agreed. I thought it was the start of something beautiful between us; even though questions of doubt had been pouring into my mind. Our first night together was heavenly. I loved sucking on her nipples and we finally had sex, and yes, her tits dangled wonderfully against the bed as I fucked her from behind. It was a little raw and unrehearsed, another teenage fumbling attempt, if I am honest, but we slept together and we awoke together. We continued in this way for some time; staying over at the others during weekends and occasionally on the odd night in the week. Kate was introduced to my friends and they loved her. At the time I did not find it strange that I was not introduced to hers. She always kept telling me that she never had anyone that was that close to her. Uncertainty in our relationship started to take effect, cracks appeared through which doubt started to illuminate the life we shared. It was normally Kate that instigated it. The words, ‘I’m not sure it’s what I want,’ were to echo through my mind every time she sighed or told me that there was something she needed to say. Maybe she was scared of having a relationship, and that staying with one person for a long period of time was not something she could do; at least that would explain her current status of single at her age, and for so long. Maybe I was not the one for her? Maybe I was too nice? or just not her type. Maybe she just needed her own space. I tried to understand her, but every time I failed. Towards the end, we used to split up once, sometimes twice a month. During the week after a split, it was normally Kate that phoned me to see if I was free to meet up. She always confessed that she missed me and that she wanted to see me; to go out for a meal, or the cinema, or just out for the day. Every time we would slip back into the staying over routine and every time she would get second thoughts leading to us splitting up again. At one point during our togetherness, I encouraged her to strip to her bra, knickers and stockings, put on a coat and go to the pub. She giggled throughout the role play and told me how naughty it was. And what would happen if she got caught? Yet I loved her childlike attitude when she acted like that. While we were out, we stood by the bar and we ordered a drink and chatted. She was cinsellik hakkında bilgiler looking around the room all the time at the people sitting in chairs having their normal evening conversations. I am convinced that knowing she was naked underneath the coat excited her. When we left the bar, we walked through a park and once more, I encouraged her to undo her coat and open it for me. She did open it, but not without a significant amount of encouragement on my part. She would insist that it was improper, and worried about being caught. I watched, mesmerised, as Kate, virtually naked underneath the coat, behaved like a teenager exposing herself and flashing in public for the very first time. Kate acted in a rambunctious manner, giggling all the time. It was these moments that made me think of her as naïve even immature for her age. It was also these moments that made me love her. Like a new toy, I couldn’t put her down. I firmly believe that Kate was playing a game and I had to play along with her. I couldn’t help myself.On one fateful night, Kate decided to finish with me yet again! We were out having a drink, it was close to her birthday and I had bought her a present which I gave to her in a pub. Moments afterwards, came the words that I so much dreaded. “I don’t know about this, we need to have a talk,” she said. I knew what was coming.We chatted and she told me, once more, that she didn’t know what she wanted. We eventually left the pub and walked to my car. On this particular occasion, we only took the one car, so I was obliged to drive her home. After walking through the empty car park, we got in the car and she talked about her reasons for being unsure. Then she leant over towards me and she asked whether she could suck me off, one last time. I didn’t believe what I was hearing at first. I was a little surprised at her intentions, and I just laughed at her. Kate proceeded to unbutton my trousers, unzip my fly and take my hardening cock out of my jeans while she dropped her head in the direction of my lap. Her mouth sank down on it with gusto. I looked out from the windscreen at the passing cars on the main road. The blue flashing light of a police car didn’t go unnoticed and I am convinced, when that happened, I lost a little hardness. Kate never let up once. She sucked me until I spurted down her throat. Just after I came, I looked to my right and saw the staff emptying from the pub, but they didn’t walk towards us. While Kate was drinking my spunk, two cars passed us and they pulled into the car park to pick up the people who had just left the pub. Maybe that’s why Kate suggested it. The openness of the situation, the fact that we could get caught doing it in my car. It had crossed my mind that she planned the whole thing; the depression I felt at being dumped again, the empty car park, the blow job and the pleasure that brought, the people and cars and then those final words of hers, ‘that was naughty!’I drove back to Kate’s in a fit of anger, contemplating all the way and I rarely spoke to her for the whole journey.