When Youth is Past

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Youth may be past, but all it not over.
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Starlight
Starlight
1,034 Followers

I was waiting for the man to arrive. At least he would make a bit of a change in my otherwise monotonous existence. Having someone in the house apart from my dreary husband gave me a reason to smarten myself up a bit. I got out a dress I had bought a few years ago at a time when I still cared how I looked, and tried it on. “Good God!” I thought, “It still fits.”

I took the dress off again and gazed into the mirror at my reflection. I had on only pants and a bra, but not satisfied, I took them off as well. “Hmm,” I meditated, “Fifty five and still not too bad. Five feet five inches (tall that is), thirty-eight round the bust. I reached for the measuring tape, “Well, forty anyway. And forty-two round the hips. Could be worse. Breasts still reasonable and the nipples not battered around. Stomach a bit rounded with a few birthmarks, but nothing very noticeable. Legs, well, they had never been my best feature, but acceptable. Acceptable to whom?”

That was a good question. Fred, my husband of thirty five years was in his sixties and had recently had his prostate removed. This left him permanently limp. Not that this was much of a change. He hadn’t been able to perform properly for fifteen years, and I had been left to satisfy myself with one or two ships that passed in the night and a vibrator. Not that I fancied Fred anyway with his breath stinking of beer and cigarettes.

Of course, many people think that when a woman gets past her mid forties she is a neuter. I don’t know about other women, but I’d give anything for a good hard fucking, but there was no one on the current scene that seemed interested.

I looked more closely at my face and hair. “Yes, could do with a bit of maintenance there. Hair not bad as it had only been dyed the previous week, but those lines round the eyes and the signs of a little double chin! Not hairy like a lot of older women. Lucky that. Hey, didn’t I buy some cream a few years back that was supposed to remove lines? I only used it once or twice, where the hell did I put it? Of course, in the cupboard under the basin in the bathroom.”

I went to the bathroom and got out the cream. I didn’t really believe it would work, but I gave it a try. “Heavens, it does seem to do something. I swear those lines are not as noticeable as before. Better have a go with some makeup.”

I took a bit of trouble with the makeup. Instead of the usual dash around the lips with the old beetle blood, I applied the lipstick to what I thought was best advantage. I used some eye makeup that must have been about ten years old, and I tugged on the dress I had selected and thought of a bold move. I wouldn’t wear bras today. I’d let ‘em float free. Oh God, that felt good. I hated those constricting torture garments. “Aha,” I thought, “No pants either. Let the fresh air circulate. So, what if the dress only came down to mid thigh? Give my visitor a thrill if he saw anything he shouldn’t. Some hope! He’d probably run screaming from the house.”

The doorbell rang, and after one final check around the equipment, I went to answer it. I had expected a middle-aged tradesman, but what I got was a bright youth of about twenty or so. He’d come to repair the television set, and the sight of this youthful tradesman raised doubts in my mind as to his competence, but, he was here, so better let him get on with it.

“Mrs.Yarnold?” he asked, with a smile that would have had me with my knickers down in a flash thirty years ago. “That’s right,” I assented. “I’m from ‘Teletronics’,” he went on, still giving me the leg trembling smile. I invited him in and showed him where the offending piece of equipment was. He set about his task with apparent efficiency.

Now I know you readers aren’t stupid, so it’s obvious that I had hoped that I might get some middle aged rooster of a repair man, who might, just might, take a bit of a personal interest. Hope faded in the presence of this youth. Never the less, as I was paying for the repairs I might as well get full value for my money, so I sat to watch him as he worked.

I started at the top, observing his golden hair, his wide set blue eyes, full mouth and firm chin. He had a slim torso, the bottom half of which was clad in tight jeans that displayed a great deal of promise, if you know what I mean.

We chatted as he worked. Nothing very special. I asked if he liked his job, and was there much work at the moment, and all that sort of thing. He gave appropriate replies and asked how long I’d lived in the district and what it was like. At one stage, I got around to telling him my husband was now retired, but he was out for the day. I didn’t say where, but between you and me, he was fishing and boozing with a couple of his useless mates.

The television set stood on legs and to adjust a particular part, Tony (I had asked his name) had to lie on his back underneath the infernal machine. He had got the thing going by now, and asked me if I would move the aerial that was one of those cheap indoor things on top of the set, and watch the picture. Without thinking I approached the set and did as he asked. As the picture cleared he started to emerge from underneath, this brought his head, and especially his eyes, just under my dress.

He stopped, transfixed. I wondered what the matter was, then it hit me, he could see my female equipment. He still didn’t move and I thought, “Surely he can’t be tempted by an old woman’s sexual organ?” I think a demon got into me then, so I tried an experiment. I placed my legs wider apart to give him a more accurate vision of my vital parts. He continued to stare.

Then I noticed that the marked outline in his jeans of his vital statistics had grown considerably. “My God,” I thought, “This boy is being turned on by me.” It had never occurred to me that I might be able to attract a young fellow like this, despite what I’d heard about young men wanting older women. I waited for a bit longer, letting him get the picture as fully as possible, and then moved away.

He got up and I asked “Would you like a cup of coffee?” With a somewhat shaky voice, he said he would, so I disappeared into the kitchen to make it. He followed me in, and now his erection was loud and clear. He stood and eyed me all over, his gaze lingering on my breasts. I thought I’d try to push things along a little bit, and asked if he had a girlfriend. He sort of croaked out something about being between girls, and in any case, he found the young ones too silly and giggly.

I thought I saw definite signs of my sun coming up over the horizon, and prepared myself to get the full benefit. We took our coffee into the lounge and I made sure we maneuvered to the couch. Sitting beside him as close as I dared at this stage, I picked up the theme of young girls. “What is it,” I asked, “Is it just that you prefer the mature woman?”

“That’s it!” he gasped.

“What do you consider as mature,” I asked as casually as possible. “Oh, someone about your age,” he panted out with laboured breath. I laid my hand on his thigh and said, “That’s a very lovely thing to say.”

He took the bait and the plunge (mixed metaphor there), and leaned across and kissed me. It was not very romantic, his nervousness made it messy.” Oh well," I thought, "I’d better start giving some lessons.”

I took up the kissing theme and gave him a deep and long one. He could hardly keep still, especially when I put my hand on his now pulsating sexual organ. “I think you’d better fuck me,” I said. He made no verbal reply, but pushed his hand up my dress and found my sexual organ. He may have been nervous but he certainly knew what to do with what he found. His finger was at my clitoris in a flash and in a flash and a half I was soaking wet with my woman’s juices.

He was kissing me very adequately by now while his hand continued to ply its trade. I thought I’d better make some appropriate response, and started to unbelt and unzip his jeans as best I could, given that his kissing blocked my vision and he had me so stirred up I hardly knew what I was doing. He ceased the kissing and clitoris caressing in order to render me assistance in disrobing him and, having completed this task, he went on to help me out of my dress.

This was the decisive moment. Would he take one look and run? No, he didn’t. He pushed me down onto the couch and dived straight for my breasts. Quickly he was pressing one with his hand and sucking the nipple of the other.

I may sound somewhat flippant in relating these events, but believe me I was far from flippant in the situation. I was gasping and moaning like mad, and was pummeling at his penis as hard as I could go. Events took a new turn when he pulled away from me, pushed my feet up onto the couch, spread my legs and dived into my cunt with his tongue. I started to yell out and it’s a wonder the neighbours didn’t come running. He was driving me mad with lust for him.

I thought it was time for a little reciprocal action so I went down onto the floor and maneuvered him into the 69. We went on giving each other oral sex until I could stand it no longer. I shoved him over on his back, sat across him, and pushed his very respectable sized organ into me.

He groped for and found my hips as I started to plunge up and down on him. We were both howling and groaning by now and I started to vibrate with my approaching orgasm. I felt the first burst of his sperm exploding into me, and our howls reach a new crescendo. Only once before in my life had I actually experienced with my orgasm an ejaculation of my fluids, but this time I felt it pouring out of me. It was the most beautiful hell you could imagine.

It seems that in the natural order all good things must come to an end. And so it was with us. We both lay soaked with sweat, sperm and my juices.

The working day must go on, and so did Tony. After recovering somewhat, and giving him a bit of a clean up, he departed.
I hasten to add that he drops in quite regularly and unofficially to see that the television set is still okay. There is no monetary charge for this service, but there is a reciprocal exchange.

Just a thought. Older ladies, have a bit of consideration for the younger men, you could be quite a help to them.

Starlight
Starlight
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