Jeff and Lisa Miss Ski School
My name is Lisa; I will be 19 years old at the end of the sexy mature woman year and I can boast a 36-24-35 body, if I was into boasting. I am often mistaken for being at least three or four years older than I am; if I was taller it would probably be more. I suppose that when I get older the age factor might be classified as a problem, but for the moment it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. I like being young and I like being mistaken as older.
I thought that I wanted to be a blonde when I was younger, but I’m now more than satisfied with my long brown hair. It looks like something from a hair shampoo ad’ when I wash it, so I’m proud of calling this my ‘best feature’. All my friends have mentioned just how much they envy me and my looks, but I have never been a poser or a big-head so I just thank them for their comments and leave it at that.
Although I wouldn’t say I have a lot of experience when it comes to sex I have had enough boyfriends to know what I would consider as good and not good. Most of it has been the not good variety. I must admit to myself that I do like older men. I fantasize about them a lot of the time. I get a bit fed-up with the antics of the young guys in college, they all seem to fit into the same mold and I don’t seem to enjoy that category.
Most of the younger guys seem to have the attitude that they are the best thing since sliced bread; but with many of them they are simply hopeless when it comes to treating a girl properly. I’m not talking about opening the car door for me or buying dinner and stuff like that; I’m referring to sex, making love, call it what you will. In the sexy mature woman times that I have been with boys of my own age I think I have had one orgasm; this event happened with me doing most of the work on my clit while this boy, Gilbert, pushed his rather small cock in and out of my pussy until he was grunting and groaning like he had it trapped in a door. Not the best of memories.
I have this fantasy that when I lose my virginity proper, in other words when the man includes me in the love-making, it will be a really distinguished older man who knows just how to push all the right buttons.
*********
I went on a skiing holiday recently, my first holiday without mom and dad. This holiday was my first real experience as an ‘adult’, it felt like I had been let out of jail. This doesn’t mean that I had a bad time at home, or anywhere else for that matter, I just believed that I was missing out on something… although I had no firm idea what. As we boarded the bus to the ski resort I couldn’t help but think about my fantasy of an older man.
The two girls that went with me on holiday had been friends since we were ten years old. I was the most recent arrival into the neighborhood and we all seemed to hit it off straight away. We had since been in the same classes at school, we were all currently dabbling at cheerleading and we didn’t have too many secrets from one another. All in all we got along great. With their make up on my friends also looked at least two to three years older than their present 17 years.
We planned to be at the ski resort for five days, arriving Sunday evening and leaving Friday lunchtime. Stupid timing, but it made it less expensive for us. We had been saving hard all year for this holiday, so we were going to make the best of it while we were there. People who came into the hotel at the weekend paid almost the same amount for the Friday and Saturday evening as we were paying for five nights, this didn’t make sense to us; we wanted to use our spare cash for partying and skiing.
We went down to dinner immediately after unpacking and the hotel dining room was half full already; the people already there looked as though they had been out on the slopes all day. Many of them would not be too long out of bed from the look of them, most of them looked exhausted.
Surveying the room I couldn’t help looking hard at all the men to see if there were any that fitted into the category that rang my bell… the distinguished, single, older man; the one that might be able to show me just whatever it was that I had been missing while I had been messing around with the young college students.
A quick hard scan of the room showed that I wasn’t in luck this time.
The hotel had an a la carte menu, if this was what the guests wanted, but they also had a smorgasbord meal where people simply got in line and chose whatever they wanted from a fantastic array of food, just like at college – but ten times better. The smorgasbord came at a price that was usually far less than the a la carte meal. There were quite a few people in the line.
All three of us joined in the line, me at the rear. I then caught a glimpse of what I’d been fantasizing about as I was idly looking around at the food displayed in front of me. He came into the dining room and took a place in line right behind me. He looked to be in his late forties or early fifties, with graying hair at the temples and a tan that had taken a lot of sun time to achieve. He was well over six feet tall and was obviously very fit.
His wide shoulders and narrow waist did not go unnoticed. His clothes were in shades of grey and black, except for the white lettering around the neck of his turtle-neck sweater; it was a logo of some sort, probably a ski maker. There was no doubt in my mind that everything he was dressed in was expensive, and he’d spent some time choosing them. This was like an identi-kit picture from my fantasy, come to life. He looked good enough to eat; literally.
I quickly looked toward the front of the line, a little embarrassed; I had been staring at this man like I was a bitch in heat. I wondered what he thought of the way I had looked at him. He said, “Hi” as I couldn’t help turning my head again to get another eye-full.
“Hello.” I said in return, feeling like an idiot as I spoke.
I collected my food and rushed to the table where my two friends were. I almost fell as I sat down with a thump. They could see that I was flustered and wondered what had caused the color in my cheeks to change to a couple of shades less than bright pink. They looked around but didn’t notice anything that might bring upon my sudden state of embarrassment. They were interested to know why I had rushed back from the counter but not that interested to continue with questions, we left it at that and no more was said.
When I got back to my room I undressed, jumped into bed and before going to sleep I fantasized about my older man. As I closed my eyes I dreamed of a very fat cock forcing its way inside me. I finished up having a wonderful, no frills, orgasm while playing with myself.
All three of us had enjoyed a good night’s sleep and we got an early start to the slopes. We wanted to get in a full days skiing, so we were on the road at 7.30. The weather looked like something from a picture-postcard; a great start to the holiday. Something I didn’t know was that my first day skiing would come to a halt just over three hours.
With not training specifically for skiing before I left for the holiday, it didn’t take too long for my thighs to begin to ache. They then began shaking from the unusual stress of skiing down the slope for the third time; then a few moguls later I was on my back with my ski’s facing up the hill and my head facing the opposite way. Snow began making its way down my pants to the crack in my ass. My ankle had taken a bad turn and my back felt as though I had strained a few of the muscles alongside my spine. All-in-all I didn’t feel on top of the world. I crawled around to a position where I could get back on my feet and with a struggle I stood up.
As my friends arrived I thanked my lucky stars that it wasn’t worse, and said the same thing aloud to them as I told them what had happened. I said that I would have to call it a day, go back to the hotel - have a hot bath or a spa, and rest up for what was left of our first day. I said I’d catch up with them at about 6.00pm when they returned from the slopes.
*********
I arrived back at the hotel just before lunchtime. I put away my skiing gear then went down to the hotel bar for a coffee. As I went into the bar my fantasy-man from the evening before was there enjoying a cappuccino. He smiled, looked at my slight limp as I walked in and said, “Trouble on the slopes?”
“You could say that.”
“What happened?”
I explained about the lack of ski fitness and the fact that I stumbled through a couple of moguls and I was feeling slightly silly, as well as sore. I told him that I’d decided to call it a day rather than chance hurting myself further.
It turned out that my fantasy man was called Jeff and the reason he was in the bar, not out on the slopes, was because he had been at the hotel a week already and he wanted to have a day without snow and too many people around him. I thought, “Well that’s OK with me!”
Jeff asked my name and I said, “It’s Lisa.”
“You know Lisa, the thing you should be doing now is having a nice hot bath, then a warm oil massage. You will feel a hundred percent better when that’s finished.”
I didn’t say anything about his comment, and then asked the barman for a coffee. I have to admit, the recommended massage treatment sounded fantastic. I was sure that he would raise the subject again if he was really interested.
For the next half hour we talked as though we had been friends for a long time; absolutely nothing like the conversations I’d had with my male friends at college. I knew that there was every chance that my fantasy might come true if he was as good at everything else as he was at holding a conversation.
I found out that Jeff’s wife had died the previous year; they didn’t have kids, so when she was gone he was left on his own. He was fit, successful and lived in a really great part of the same city that I was born in and now lived in. His fitness came from visits to the gym every night of the week, and running and cycling at the weekends. This was the first time he had stopped work for long enough to take a holiday since his wife died. He felt that working was one way of getting over his wife’s death.
It had taken him almost a full year to come to terms with the fact that he must get on with his own life. He didn’t make a drama of the situation when he told me, he just explained it the way it was. He had not been with another woman in the time since his wife died and his business had kept him so busy that he rarely thought about sex. “Maybe only once or twice a day,” Jeff said with a cheeky smile on his face. I didn’t feel in the slightest bit pressured from our conversation, in fact it made me feel more assured that he really was my fantasy come true.
I decided that I had better have the hot bath that had been recommended, and I had promised myself, or the aches and pains would still be there tomorrow and cut a large hole in the available holiday time.
Having finished my coffee, I looked at Jeff and said, “Well, I’m going to take your advice and go for that hot bath. It’s a pity that the hotel doesn’t have a masseur and I could afford to use him.”
“Just give me a call when you’ve finished your bath and I’ll bring the oil. I’m in room 571 when you’re ready. I’m a pretty good masseur when I put my mind to it.”
I smiled, said that I might take him up on his offer and walked away as calmly as I could. My insides were doing somersaults and back-flips. I wondered if I would call room 571 when I’d finished having a bath or not.
*******
When I got back to my room, I felt a bit of a chill; probably from seeing the snow outside the window. I turned the thermostat up by 10 degrees and then began running the bath. A ‘bath-bomb’ that I’d brought from home had the foam a good foot above the bath before I knew what was happening. I couldn’t help but think about Jeff’s offer as I stripped off my clothes.
Standing in the bathroom for a little while before jumping in the bath, with clouds of steam making the place warm, helped me to make up my mind. I stepped out of the bathroom, picked up the phone and called 571.
“Hello Jeff, it’s Lisa. I’ve decided that I’d like to take you sexy mature woman up on your offer of the massage. My body is aching a bit and I think it would do me good to try to loosen up. I’m in room 633; come up in half an hour, I’m just about to jump in the bath. I’ll leave the door off the catch so you can come in when you arrive.”
“OK, see you in half an hour.”
My heart was beginning to thud at a rate that felt like I’d been exercising hard, I could feel it loud in my ears. I went back into the bathroom, stepped into the hot water and slowly sat back. I lowered myself down into the water, with the foam in line with my eyes. I cleared a patch with my arm and lay back to enjoy the soak.
Not more than fifteen minutes later I heard the door of the hotel room open, and then close again. “It’s me Lisa - Jeff.” I heard. “I know it’s not been a half hour but I knew that you’d be in the bath anyway, so I thought I might as well come on up. I hope that’s OK?”
“Yes that’s fine, I’m going to soak for a while longer, so help yourself to a drink from the mini-bar if you want one?”
“No thanks; I thought you may want to relax a bit, so I brought over a bottle of bubbly as well as the oil. You’re welcome to a glass while you’re in the bath if you’d like one?”
My heart was now going like a trip-hammer and my imagination must have been running away with me because my pussy was beginning to feel warm and wet… on the inside as well as the outside.
“That would be great Jeff; there are glasses in the cupboard above the mini-bar.”
A few minutes later the door to the bathroom opened and Jeff stepped inside with a glass of champagne in both hands. He laughed as he saw the height of the foam rising from the bath water. “My God, what are you doing in here? It’s like a frozen relief of Niagara Falls!”