As Soon As I Saw Him

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Big Tits

The last two years since my husband died have been very difficult for me. My friends have been kind to me, and I cannot really claim to have been lonely. In fact, at times I would have valued a little space to come to terms with my loss. What I have missed has not been company, but the physical intimacy that I so often took for granted; the loving cuddling, the touch of his hands, the sound of his voice, and above all his masculine scent. Of course, once a decent period of grieving had passed, my friends went out of their way to introduce me to eligible men of my own age, mainly widowers, although some were living in sham marriages, where all love and intimacy had died. There was one very nice man whose wife was in the final stages of dementia and who no longer knew who he was. I am sorry to say that none of them really attracted me as a potential partner, the vital spark was just not there. Having known friends who became so lonely and desperate they were willing to say ‘yes’ to any man that would pay attention to them, I knew this could lead to complications and hurts that I was determined to avoid. I at least wanted to start with someone who ignited my interest in them as a person. I know that many of you might want to ask about sex, but are too polite to broach the subject. Like many long married couples our sex life had become rather unexciting – vanilla sex I suppose you might call it – more a matter of habit than passion, but no less loving for that. In the last year of my husband’s illness, sex became impossible, and I had found other ways to satisfy my libido. At first I had just masturbated with my fingers, but I found that I missed the feeling of a penis inside me, and bought a couple of dildos and a vibrator from an online store. While these were not as satisfying as the real thing, they did allow me to have a very satisfactory climax, and occasionally I would reach levels of pleasure comparable to sex with my husband. All this changed a few months ago in a fashion that I can only describe as miraculous. In an attempt to get out of myself I had enrolled in adult education classes in art history at a local college, where a series of visiting experts would come to give lectures on subjects as diverse as the techniques of the early European masters, and the place of art in shaping social attitudes. It happened that one evening in early November, an otherwise dreary and depressing day, the lecturer was a man in his early fifties, who I was immediately attracted to. Oh my, it is such a mysterious thing, attraction. Dr Anthony Alexander, Tony as he Erenköy escort bayan asked us to call him, was quite distinguished looking, just under six feet tall, with a neat little beard, and he had obviously taken good care of himself – or somebody else had, which is what I assumed at the start. His subject was the influence of Native American art on the modernist school, which I found fascinating, and when he suggested that those who were particularly interested might like to join him for a drink after class at a well known restaurant close by, I surprised myself and jumped at the opportunity. I suppose that there must have been a spark of connection at the beginning, but I cannot see what might have attracted Tony to me that evening, a middle aged widow without makeup, in faded jeans and a shapeless plain sweater. Maybe it was fate, but much to my embarrassment, I was the only one who took him up on his invitation. Having let him know I was the Lacy Middleton on the enrollment sheet, he and I ordered a drink and started to get to know one another. The conversation was strained at first, but when I told Tony that I had a few pieces of native art, instead of just saying, “How nice,” and then talking about himself, he encouraged me to describe them, and to tell him how I had got them. After that, things just progressed, and I found myself telling him about Jim and his illness and death, and my loneliness. He was a very sympathetic listener, and it just poured out of me. I discovered he lived within a couple of miles of my house, though I know I would have remembered him if we had ever met. After what seemed like minutes, but must have been nearly an hour, during which I had talked almost nonstop, the manager indicated that it was time to close the bar and lock up. While I had not enjoyed myself so much in ages, I guessed that that would be the end of it, but Tony scribbled his name and telephone number on a piece of paper, and asked me if I would give him mine as he would like to follow up with me, both to look at my art pieces and to get to know me better. I hadn’t felt so comfortable, and yet so physically drawn to anyone since Jim’s death, so I was anxious to see him again, and happily wrote down my name and my cell number. I couldn’t believe my good fortune, and was like a teenager again imagining all kinds of fun we could have together. I even allowed myself to feel aroused at the thought of Tony’s body being close to mine in my place while looking at my Indian art. On the morning that Tony was coming, I was frantically Escort içerenköy going round plumping the cushions, and moving a decorative piece an inch this way, and then going back and moving it back to where it had been originally. This was just an ordinary meeting over a cup of coffee, but I was just like a young girl going out on a first date. I had spent hours getting ready, arranging my hair, and I had put on make up for the first time in ages, nothing too much, just blusher and eye shadow, and a nice demure lip gloss. I also wore a freshly pressed pair of jeans, and a pretty ocean blue top that set off my eyes and blondish hair. The top was rather low cut, showing enough cleavage to announce what was underneath. I felt like a woman again after so many months of not caring about my appearance. Of course, nothing happened that morning – what was I expecting? We just sat over a cup of coffee, and talked. I noticed that Tony wore a wedding ring, and I asked him about his wife and family. He explained that he had been married, but that his wife had left him some years before, and they had totally lost contact – not even a Christmas Card. It was his fault, he said, he had just been too busy with developing his career, and he had neglected her shamefully, so it came as no surprise when he came home one Sunday after a symposium to find a terse note. When he looked, her car was no longer in the garage, and her clothes were all gone, so he guessed that that was that. His parents were well, as was his one other sibling, a brother. All were about three hours drive away and he tried to see them as often as his schedule allowed. All of this information, plus his rather obvious interest in what I had to say, just fueled my imagination that this may go the way I hoped. And I don’t think I was wrong that he seemed to be interested in more than what I had to say, as I saw his eyes appraising my body in a very discreet way. After about two wonderful hours had flown by, he said that perhaps we should take a look at my Native American pieces, as that was the reason for coming round – disappointing, but true. I was so aware of him when he stood beside me as I showed him my small collection, his warmth, and scent, things about Jim that I missed so much. And when his hand brushed against mine, it was like an electric shock. My body was reacting with tingling between my legs and my nipples hardening; there was no doubt I was physically attracted. At the end of the morning as he got up to leave, he said that he had been invited Tuzla escort to attend a formal dinner in a city about a hundred miles away, and as everyone else would be there with their partners or spouses, perhaps I would like to be his guest and accompany him. Why, I thought, does he seem to mention these things as he is about to leave, as if they were an afterthought? And this was very sudden, no matter what I had been thinking about him. Was he attracted to me in the same way? And to ask me to go out of town with him at this short acquaintance? He said that a room had already been reserved for him, but if I said yes, he would ring the organizers and get them to book another room for me. I’m ashamed to say that in spite of misgivings, I nearly snapped his hand off, I was so eager to carry on with our relationship, half hoping I suppose, that it might lead to something more intimate. I was so aroused thinking about what might happen that I went up to my bedroom, and got out my favorite dildo and undressed, looking at myself in the mirror. I was fine really, what can you expect with a woman forty seven years old? I had been fortunate enough that I didn’t have to work, as Jim’s income had more than provided for us. Sadly, we had never had children, and I spent almost all my time with charity events and sports. I loved tennis, running, swimming and had been on a woman’s softball team for over twenty years. So, as I ran my hands over my body I didn’t think I had anything to be ashamed of. Lying naked on my bed, I imagined Tony watching me as I ran my hands over my hard little nipples, my flat tummy, and then my sex, as I moved my legs far apart. I had been getting a Brazilian wax for years because I hated to fool with the fear of hair showing when wearing my bathing suit, and besides, Jim had loved it. Just touching myself and thinking of Tony had me so very wet already, and I was moving my bottom in a rocking motion wanting something inside me to satisfy my need. Oh, just touching the dildo to my hole got it so wet, and I could run it up and down my slit, teasing myself with the thought of where it was going. Wishing I had a mirror on the ceiling or wall, I slowly eased the cock inside my pussy, holding my lips open with one hand, pushing it all the way in until it could go no further. At least as I pulled it out and pushed it in, I could imagine Tony watching me and dropping his clothes on the floor to squeeze his already hard cock. In and out, I couldn’t believe how quickly I was ready to cum just from imagining Tony standing there seeing how wet and pink my hole was. Watching me as I fucked myself with one hand and ran my finger round and around my clit with the other. Then he would come to the bed and take over. Wow! I couldn’t stop after I came the first time, and had several little climaxes following, something that hadn’t happened in so many years.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32