Bachelorette in the Downpour

The rain hammered against the tiny café's windows like it wanted to break in and join us. Me, Lena, and Marina sat in the corner at an old wooden table that smelled of coffee and wet wool. I hadn't seen them in almost twenty years, and now, at fifty-two, I felt a familiar shiver run through me when Lena—still just as curvy and vibrant—placed her warm palm on my knee under the table.

"God, Tanya, you haven't changed a bit… just your tits got even juicier," she laughed softly, squeezing her fingers a little harder. Her eyes glittered with champagne and something far from friendly.

Marina, lean and always a bit of a bitch, snorted, but I caught her licking her lips as she watched us.

"Girls, we came for a bachelorette party, not a lesbian experiment," she said, but her voice cracked treacherously.

"And who says we can't do both?" I leaned in closer, feeling my nipples already hard against my thin blouse. Lena didn't pull her hand away—instead, she slowly hiked up the hem of my skirt and dragged her nails along my inner thigh. Heat shot straight between my legs.

"Fuck, Tanya… are you serious?" Marina breathed out, but she'd already scooted closer, her knee pressing against mine.

"What, you object?" Lena smirked and, without asking, leaned across the table and kissed Marina right on the mouth. The kiss was wet, greedy. I heard a soft moan as their tongues met.

My heart was pounding. I never thought I'd feel this wet and filthy again at my age. Lena turned to me, her hand now fully under my skirt, fingers sliding confidently over my panties.

"Holy shit, Tanya, you're already dripping," she whispered in my ear. "How long's it been since you fucked a woman?"

"Too long…" I arched as two of her fingers pushed the fabric aside and slid into my hot cunt. The wet, squelching sound was so loud I glanced nervously at the bartender. He pretended not to notice anything.

Marina stood up, walked around the table, and sat down on my other side. Her hand went straight to my chest, roughly grabbing my tit through my blouse.

"Show us those tits, old lady," she giggled. I unbuttoned quickly. My heavy breasts spilled out, nipples dark and hard. Marina immediately leaned down and took one in her mouth, sucking hard. I moaned, grabbing fistfuls of her short hair.

Lena, meanwhile, was already fucking me with her fingers faster and faster—three fingers sliding deep in and out of my pussy, her thumb grinding my clit. I spread my legs as wide as the chair allowed and started rocking my hips to meet her.

"More… deeper, Lena… fuck me, you bitch…" I was almost growling.

"Look how she's dripping," Marina laughed, pulling off my breast. Spit glistened on her lips. She shoved her own hand up her dress and started rubbing herself, eyes locked on Lena pounding my cunt.

All three of us were panting. The café was nearly empty, the rain drowning out our moans. Lena suddenly pulled her fingers out, glistening with my juices, and brought them to my lips.

"Suck," she ordered.

I obediently opened my mouth and sucked my own fluids off her fingers. Marina stood up, yanked off her panties, and sat on the edge of the table right in front of me, spreading her legs.

"Now you eat me out, Tanya. Show me what that tongue can do."

I didn't wait. I leaned in and dragged my tongue along her smooth, already-soaked slit. The taste was salty-sweet, intoxicating. I started licking her clit in quick strokes while shoving two fingers into her hot hole. Marina grabbed my hair and started riding my face.

"Yeah… just like that… deeper, you slut… lick my pussy… ohhh fuck, that's so good…"

Lena got up behind me, hiked my skirt up to my waist, and started slapping my still-firm ass. Each smack sent heat straight to my core. Then I felt her tongue trace along my perineum—from clit to asshole. She licked me hungrily, burying her tongue deep in my pussy, then in my ass.

I moaned right into Marina's wet slit, trembling all over. The orgasm hit me out of nowhere—I convulsed, whimpering, coming all over Lena's tongue. Juices ran down my thighs. But they didn't stop.

Lena sat down on a chair, peeled off her soaked panties, and pulled me onto her face. I started grinding on her tongue, smearing my pussy across her lips and nose. Marina dropped to her knees between my legs and started licking my clit while Lena tongue-fucked my cunt.

"I'm gonna come again… girls… I'm coming…" I rasped.

"Come on, you bitch, come all over our faces," Marina breathed, sucking harder on my clit.

The second orgasm was even stronger. I screamed, shuddering, and felt myself spray—a real squirt right onto their tongues and chins. They both moaned, licking up every last drop.

Then we switched. I licked Lena while Marina finger-fucked her. Then Marina sat on my face while Lena sat on hers. We turned into a wet, moaning, sweaty chain of three mature women finally letting loose desires we'd buried for decades.

When we all came almost simultaneously, the café filled with our heavy moans and the smell of aroused pussies. The rain outside kept pouring, like it was applauding.

We sat there, gasping, faces slick, fingers shiny with each other's juices. Lena laughed first.

"So, girls… best bachelorette party in thirty years?"

"You bet," I said, licking my lips, tasting Marina. "And we're just getting started."

Marina raised her glass with the last of the champagne.

"To old sluts who finally stopped pretending to be respectable."

We clinked glasses and laughed. And the rain kept beating against the glass, hiding us from the world.