Alone for Too Long

She ran her hands up my sides and stood. We shared a passionate kiss and then I dropped to my own knees. I relished the moment taking my time as I slipped my hands into the waistband of her panties and slowly pushed them to the floor while looking up and into her eyes. I saw nervousness and glee simultaneously. With her panties on the floor, I ran my hands up the back of her legs and buried my face in her pubic hair. Her scent was undeniable, and I felt desired for the first time in too many years.

Soon we moved into the shower and dividing our time between kisses and hugs one moment and soapy washcloths the next. We were thorough and washed everywhere multiple times, enjoying the moment as we went. We began with washcloths, and we finished with soapy hands and fingers.

As she stood leaning back against me with the warm water cascading over her, I slipped my left hand down her stomach, across her mound, and between her legs as my right arm supported her tight against me. I began to run my fingers gently, slowly along her lips as I had before, but this time I didn't stop. Between her lips and over her clitoris, I ran my fingers until I slipped a finger inside her. She gasped, but she didn't complain. Slowly, persistently, I rubbed her clitoris with my thumb as my finger slipped in and out of her pussy. And yes, I said pussy which has always been for me a term of great affection and respect. She had revealed herself to me and her secrets were now mine.

Her head lay back against my shoulder with her eyes closes and her hips began to rock. Her hand slid down my arm and held my hand in place. In and out with my finger, my thumb running along her clitoris, she erupted in the first orgasm given to her by a man. I felt like Columbus discovering the new world. I was her first and only, and I held her in my arm until her spasms slowly subsided.

I kissed her neck and nuzzled her ear. This was a moment we would both remember for the rest of our lives, and I was loath to let it end. Without turning, she whispered, "Thank you. That was wonderful!"

All I could do was smile from one ear to the other and say, "It was wonderful for me, too!"

"Did you...?" She couldn't finish the sentence.

"No, but another minute of you rubbing my erection between your cheeks like that and I would have!"

I will never accuse Claire of lacking generosity or courage. She began to gyrate her hips, rubbing my tool along the gap between her cheeks and giggling like a schoolgirl. As she did it, she pushed back even harder against me. I responded with deep breaths and thrusting gently between those warm, soft cheeks with long, deliberate motions being careful not to threaten her rosebud. I didn't want to do anything that would give her second thoughts and end the moment we had created. Up and down between her cheeks, her enthusiasm grew as did my own until I could hold back no longer, and I exploded, shooting my load between us and her cheeks.

This woman who had never been with a naked man sensed my orgasm and moaned with me celebrating our sexuality and shared pleasure. She knew my ejaculate was coating her bottom and she was happy. If she was unsure of her sexual power an hour before, the semen running between her cheeks and down her leg now put the lie to any doubts she had. She slowly turned to face me, and we kissed passionately until our passion was sated and it was time for bed. I took a washcloth and gently washed her bottom, passing my hand between her cheeks until I was sure she was clean. All the while, she looked in my face and smiled as we shared the warm afterglow of intimacy.

The shower was ended. We toweled each other off taking time to enjoy the moment and gathered our clothes when she placed her hand on my chest and said, "Thank you. That was wonderful." Then much to my disappointment, she turned and walked toward her room.

"Claire?"

She turned back to face me and whispered, "I really enjoyed our shower, Bill, but I need to think about this before we take it any further."

I was disappointed. I was more than disappointed. My confidence took a hard hit, but I understood. Less than two hours before she had been a woman who had never been with a naked man. Now she was contemplating the ultimate act of intimacy, and it overwhelmed her. I nodded. "Okay. I'll leave my door open if you change your mind. If you don't, then maybe we could have breakfast together tomorrow?"

She smiled and nodded, and then seemingly as an afterthought she stepped back to me and kissed me one last time. Then she was gone. She left me standing there naked and disappointed, but at some level I suppose I understood.

I slipped into a clean pair of briefs and turned down the bed. True to my word, I left my interior door between the rooms open, wide open, in case she had a change of heart. I didn't expect it. A lifetime of living alone isn't tossed aside lightly.

I drifted off to sleep with dreams of long, loving showers when I was awakened by the movement of my mattress. I turned to see her slipping between the sheets and moving into my embrace.

"I thought about it" was all that she said.

She came to my bed wearing only her panties that soon were discarded, as were my briefs. This woman who had never been naked with a man before tonight came to me with only a nod to her modesty and a brazen display of her feminine sexuality.

Where my lips didn't reach, my hands and fingers roamed, and I was rewarded with long, quiet moans of pleasure. The walls we'd built to protect ourselves were falling as I slowly eased myself inside her, pausing to let her adjust to me both emotionally and physically, and then deeper, and pausing, and back, and deeper, until we reached the greatest depths of penetration we could achieve. When her orgasm overtook her, I heard her gasp, and I could feel her body shudder in waves one after another that brought me to my release.

We held each other and tried to make the moment last. I breathed in the scent of her skin and hair and felt a joy I'd not known in many years. Sadly, the limitations of the body cannot be denied, and I knew that with my growing satisfaction I was shrinking. I whispered in her ear, "I'm going to fall out of you, and I don't want to." She rotated her hips to keep me within her as long as possible, but eventually there was nothing more that we could do.

We held each other in the afterglow, and I felt her warm tears on my chest. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Very."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Just hold me."

So I did. And I held her, and I kissed her, and I held her some more.

"Do you have any regrets?" It seemed the right thing to ask.

"No. No regrets except that we waited so long."

"Claire?"

"Yes."

"I'm not going anywhere. You know that don't you?" That got me the smile and the kiss I hoped for.

She again settled against my side with her head on my chest. "I know, or I was hoping."

I suppose her insecurities must have returned to some degree, because in time she asked, "Bill?"

"Yes, Claire?"

"Should I return to my own room now?"

I tried not to laugh, but I failed. "Girl, if you go back to your own room now, I swear I will hunt you down!"

It seemed to be the response she wanted, and we lay together after that talking quietly and laughing at silly little things. We were content.

Eventually, I kissed her forehead and holding her tight I said, "Claire?"

"Yes." She chuckled just a bit.

"Do you know that a man my age has a refractory period of about 60 to 90 minutes?"

I got another chuckle.

"And do you know how long it's been?"

She slid her hand down my chest and took hold of my growing erection. "I can give you a pretty good guess!"

Our second coupling seemed to bring out greater confidence in us both. We were decidedly more vocal than we had been in round one and there was no question when her climax arrived.

She admitted to me much later that she'd had two orgasms in the shower, the first a small one that surprised and slightly embarrassed her as I ran the washcloth between her legs the first time, but she had hidden that first time from me. I noted the trend, and with each orgasm she became more confident and more demonstrative. I was determined that the neighbors would complain before this trip was over.

So you ask, "How do two old farts with bad knees make love?" The answer is, "Any way they can and forever grateful." By the time we fell asleep in one another's arms, my seed was planted within her womb, and we were thoroughly spent. That didn't prevent us from accomplishing another round in the morning, but we slept very well until then.

I'll tell you just one more thing and then the rest is for me to know. Our first night together had been about discovery and exploration. Our second night had been affirmation and a demonstration that our first night had not been a mistake. It was our third night together when her confidence overflowed. We were lying in each other's arms, our legs entwined, and our passion slowly building in urgency when she reached down to take my swollen member in her hand and said, "Mine!" And she was right.

Okay, one last story and then we're done. It was our fourth night and I walked into the bathroom to take care of business as one does. As I stood over the bowl taking careful aim, I saw Claire's reflection in the mirror to my right. She crept up behind me and looked around my side with fascination. "I wish I could do that!"

I had to laugh. "That's okay. You can do everything else I could hope for."

She giggled, pinched my butt, and said, "Make sure you dry that thing before you come to bed, or you won't be putting it in me tonight!"

Do I need to tell you that I dried it thoroughly? At long last, that was the night the neighbors banged on the wall between the rooms and told us to keep it down. I knew we could do it!

That is how it began. We were two people long past our prime who had lived alone for far too long until we discovered in friendship the spark of true affection. In the coming days and nights we would fan that spark until it grew into a fire that would keep us both warm well into the future. Sure, we aren't as young as we once were and not every night is a marathon session, but whenever we can we sleep in the same bed within each other's arms.

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And that's my story, or is it my fantasy? I believe we all need intimacy at any age and that true intimacy begins with the sharing of our hearts and souls.

The characters in this story aren't so very old, but I remember a scene from the TV show Carter Country. The adult son learned that his elderly mother was living with a man from her retirement home. With alarm, he said, "Momma, are you living in sin?" She responds, "No, but we're working on it!"