Ann and Chris' Cuckold Lover, Brad

With her never the morally modest type, not a big deal for her to flash men up skirts and down blouses, flashing admiring and appreciative men her underwear made her feel sexy. Flashing men her panties, cleavage, and bra, made her feel how she felt twenty and thirty years ago when having sex with dozens of men at the swingers', swinging, sex parties she enjoyed attending with Christopher. Flashing men her panties, cleavage, and bra made her not only feel sexy but also made her feel desired and wanted again in the way that she needs to feel sexy, desired, and wanted.

Before the undertaker makes her over to make her look more how she once looked, she wanted to make herself over to a time when she felt young and sexy. Before her new makeover, with her no longer feeling wanted, noticed, and remembered, she now had a clearer image of how it must feel to be a forgotten sex star relegated to silently disappear in old age. Now instead of feeling old, she felt young. Now instead of feeling sexless, she felt sexy.

With those men on the train undressing her with their eyes, if only they knew she was a sixty-something-year-old grandmother instead of a forty-something-year-old diva, she wondered how they'd react. If only they knew how much older she was then them, she wondered if they'd still be interested enough in her to stare between her legs and down her blouse. If only they knew how old she really was, she wondered if they'd still desire her enough to want her sexually.

With her always looking twenty years younger, still being carded at thirty-five-years-old, no one ever guessed her real age even now, thirty years later. With those men not knowing her age and with her not telling them, even if they knew how old she was, she wondered how many of those four men would want to have sex with her elderly body. When she was forty-something, she looked twenty-something and now that she's sixty-something, she still looks forty-something. Maybe when she's eighty-something, with her looking sixty-something, then she'll finally act her age but she seriously doubted it.

Yet, even though she was sexually titillated flashing the men on the train her bright, white panties, the tops of her meaty breasts, her long line of cleavage, and her sexy bra, she now had second thoughts about the way she was dressed. Her reality check was her standing on the front porch ready to walk in her house to face Chris but unable to go inside, she stood there contemplating her life. Her reality check was that she was no longer a forty-something-year-old woman but old enough to collect Social Security and Medicare. Her reality check was that she couldn't do the things that she used to do and/or even wanted to do the some of the things she used to do and loved to do. Her reality check was not only was she more mature and less sound in body and but she was also more mature and more sound in mind.

For sure, she thinks differently now than she did twenty years ago. A complete waste of her time, now she no longer has the patience she had for fools who only want her for sex. Now with age giving her insight and wisdom, she sees so many things as useless and a complete and utter waste of time. Easily annoyed and with her always having the unique ability to see through men, a man would have to give her more than just a line to get her in bed. When once she was easy to laugh over a stupid joke, now her humor is more refined and particular than that. With her going to bed with practically anyone when she was immersed in the swinging lifestyle, now she's much more particular when choosing her lovers.

Even more than the sexy, provocative way she was dressed, she had second thoughts with not only the way she was dressed but also with what she was thinking about doing tonight. How dare she ponder the thought of trying to seduce a man more than twenty years her junior? Why would he even want her, especially in the way that he looks at the white, young, tall and leggy, pretty, blonde things that sashay their nearly naked bodies and shake their shapely asses in front of him? How dare she ponder the thought of having sex with forty-something-year-old Brad while Chris watches?

What's wrong with her to still have that sexual mentality that she's better, prettier, and shapelier than every other woman her age and younger? Why can't she just let go of the facade and fade away into retirement and old age? Why must she put the moves on every man, especially younger and attractive men, she sees? She needs to step out of the spotlight and relax in the rocking chair. She needs to stop the teasing and the flirting and accept herself for who she is, old and retired. With that part of her life over, she needs to get used to the idea that she's done with sex.

'Sex, sex, sex, it is over. Sex is over.'

A complete waste of her time and most of her life, now she's left with nothing but her memories. What was she thinking in trying to act forty-something when she's sixty-something? What was she thinking in trying to entice a younger man into bedding her? It's one thing to entice a twenty-something-year-old man to have sex with a forty-year-old woman but it's quite another thing to entice a forty-something-year-old man to have sex with a sixty-something-year-old woman. No doubt, he'd rather have sex with a twenty-something-year-old woman, a thirty-something-year-old woman, or even a forty-something-year-old woman than to have sex with a sixty-something-year-old woman. Instead of always trying to be the spotlighted, sexy star on stage, maybe it's time she acted more her age and submitted to a quieter life of retirement and invisibleness.

Embracing retirement and a more sedentary life, most women her age are beyond all of that sexual nonsense and erotic foolishness. Most women her age are no longer sexually active or even want to be. Most women were never driven by the sexual impulses in the way she was controlled by them in the first place. Very few women are anything like her. Most women her age are retired and just want to be left alone to drink their tea, pet their cat, and knit clothes for their grandchildren. Most women her age no longer want sex and don't even think of anything sexual.

Instead of relaxing in a rocking chair on the front porch, what she was thinking of doing instead was seducing a man more than twenty years her junior? What she was thinking of doing instead was having sex with Brad while Christopher watched and while he no doubt masturbated to all those naughty, sexy things she'd be doing with Brad? What she was thinking of doing before retiring with Chris by her side was having one, last, sexual hurrah. What she was thinking, if all worked out as planned, her slow transition to old age, was having Brad on the side.

If Diahann Carroll, her idol, could make herself always look twenty years younger, why couldn't she? Indeed, Diahann Carroll was a rare beauty. Moreover, Diahann Carroll had the money to have her hair done by the best hairdressers and her makeup done by Hollywood's best cosmetologists. Lastly, Diahann Carroll was a big believer in plastic surgeons and plastic surgery. Diahann Carroll believed in doing anything that she could do to make herself look not only good but better.

With her giving her plastic surgeons a beautiful face to work with, whatever she had done always made her look younger and rested without making her look like she's had plastic surgery. Had she not admitted that she had plastic surgery, she would have left her critics wondering, did she or didn't she? Yet, even if Ann could afford to spend tens of thousands of dollars on plastic surgery, she didn't think she could ever subject herself to go under the knife. She was vain but not that vain to bear the pain of some surgeon peeling back her face to pull the skin tighter just so that she could look younger. Even though she'd love to look younger, there's a limit to her chasing after the elusiveness of youth. Moreover, with her blessed with beautiful milk chocolate skin, unlike white women who have sun damaged skin from laying out in the hot sun, her natural, sun protection factor protects her not only from sunburns but also from wrinkles.

* * * * *

Thinking that she wanted to make herself look younger by transforming herself, Ann dyed her hair black, blue black, her natural hair color instead of grey, something that Chris has been after her to do. Never having dyed her hair before, her keeping her grey hair went against her wanting to look younger. Then, spending the extra money, she had her makeup done by a professional. Wow, with her just doing those two things for herself, she couldn't believe that hair and makeup made such a huge transformation in how much younger she looked.

Lastly, as her birthday gift to herself, instead of buying something matronly to wear tonight, she bought new, sexy clothes and new, high heel shoes. At the time, she knew exactly what she was thinking. Not only did she want to look younger again but also she wanted to feel sexy again. Not only did she want to feel sexy again but also she wanted to look sexy again. Definitely, the younger and sexier way she looked had much to do with the younger and sexier way she felt. As far as she was concerned, every dollar she spent on her hair, her makeup, and her clothes was well worth it and money well spent.

"Happy Birthday to me," she said happy with herself again.

With her wanting one, last, sexual hurrah before embracing retirement, Social Security, and Medicare, she dreaded old age with her sitting on the front porch in her rocking chair with her cat and her cup of tea while talking about the good, old days. As far as she was concerned, she had more, new, better days to live before talking about the good, old days. As far as she was concerned, with the best yet to come, she had so much more life to live. Not wanting to be lost in the old days, she wanted to look forward to her new days.

Instead of being lost reminiscing in the past, she was thinking more about the future, in recapturing her lost youth, and in recharging her sexuality if only for one last time and one hot night. With apologies to T. S. Eliot, instead of disappearing quietly in the night, she was thinking about going out with a loud, sexy scream. Instead of ending her life with a low, pitiful whimper, she wanted to end her life with a powerful orgasm.

Always accustomed to having an interested man in her life, this is where Brad makes his entrance as her new, younger lover. An interesting aside and a curious tidbit, seemingly the older she gets, the younger her lovers get. She figured by the time she's eighty-years-old, she'll be dating a twenty-year-old. There's nothing that will make her feel young as would a hard cock buried in her mouth or pounding her pussy.

Yet, why not do all the things that she loved to do instead of watching others having fun just because they're younger? With her still having a lot of life left in her to live and a lot of love in her to give, not even close, she's not dead yet. No doubt, being that Monday was her birthday inspired her thoughts of recapturing the fountain of youth but not only in just how she looked on the outside but also how she felt on the inside too.

"Help, I've fallen and I can't get up," she imagined that being her reality one day but not yet and not without her putting up a fight.

With her still possessing plenty of sexuality and vitality, if she was going to get up anything, she was going to get up the erection of a man and the man whose erection she wanted to get up was Brad, a real hunk of a handsome man. With her wrapped in a Valentine's Day, surprise, gift package for Christopher, she really was doing all of this more for Brad than she was for her boyfriend. The hair, the makeup, and the sexy clothes, with her always smiling whenever she was around him, Brad not only made her feel younger but also he made her look younger too. Sexually attracted to him, an understatement, Brad was her personal trainer and her private reason for fighting old age. While pretending that he was Brad Pitt and she was Angelina Jolie, she'd love nothing more than to feel his young, hard, naked body on top of her while pounding her old, black, warm, wet pussy.

With her being such an experienced lover, why not show Brad what it feels like to be with a real, sexy, sexual, and sensual woman instead of a woman his age who may not even enjoy sex in the way that she craved having orgasmic sex? With Angelina having nothing over her, just because a woman is half her age doesn't mean that she's sexy and is as good in bed as she knows she is. With Ann an experienced lover, she could do things to Brad's body that he'd never imagine could be done. Confusing one Brad for the other before both Brad's morphed into one, she imagined sucking and fucking him in the way he's never been sucked and fucked before.

While in bed with a lover twenty years younger instead of the same old thing with her 70-year-old boyfriend, she was thinking about orgasms, lots of orgasms. She was thinking about Brad giving her an orgasm with his fingers, one with his mouth, and another with his cock. Whenever she was with him working out at the gym, she put the sexy moves on Brad by teasing him, tempting him, and seducing him. In the way that Anne Bancroft as Mrs. Robinson seduced Dustin Hoffman as Benjamin Braddock in The Graduate, blindsided and putty in her hands, never seeing her coming, Brad would never know what hit him.

More than just thinking about having sex with him, having gone way beyond that point, she needed to have sex with him. She needed him to inject her with more than just his cum but his vitality too. More than just thinking about feeling his cock in her hand, in her mouth, and in her pussy, she wanted to pay homage to his stiff prick by worshipping it. In the way that she hoped he lusted over her big tits, dreamt of her adept hands, and sexually fantasized over her full lips and her warm mouth, her round ass, and her wet pussy, he was always on her mind.

With her short skirt slit right up the middle, it was plenty short enough to show off her shapely legs all the way up her thighs and beyond. Always proud of her legs, only wishing they were longer, she loved her legs as much as she loved her big tits. In the way she couldn't sit on the train without flashing her panties to unsuspecting, happily surprised men sitting across from her, she knew she couldn't sit across from Brad without flashing him her bright, white panties either. In the way she couldn't sit on the sofa without flashing Brad the tops of her breasts, her cleavage, and her bra.

If only the Nuns back in parochial school could see how she's dressed now, she'd spend a month in detention. If only the Nuns back in parochial school could see how she's dressed now, she'd spend the rest of the year on her knees praying for forgiveness instead of spending tonight on her knees while hopefully sucking Brad's cock. Only, other than for Bible study, she never attended parochial school. She attended public school. If only the other women in her church saw how scantily she's dressed and how sexy she looks, either they'd shun her with condemnation or they'd embrace her with their envious sexuality. If only the other women in her church saw how scantily she's dressed and how sexy she looks, she wondered what they'd say.

"You go girl. You give that man a hump for me tonight," she imagine one of her church ladies saying.

"Ooh wee baby girl! Mama's lookin' hot," she imagined another one of her church ladies saying.

Yet, with her suffering through another birthday, it was her intention to see if Brad was as sexually interested in her as she was sexually interested in him. It was so bittersweet for her to have a birthday two days after the day of love, Valentine's Day. If she didn't feel old before, officially and chronologically another year older, she felt old now.

With her wearing what she was wearing and with her showing what she was showing, it was her intention to sexually tease Brad's lustful interest and temp him by offering him hot sex. With her hardly a virgin, she knows how to sexually entice, tease, tempt, and seduce a man. With her hardly a virgin, she knows how to please a man and pleasure a man. With her hardly a virgin, she knows her way around a cock. She can sexually do things with her mouth and with her body that a man never knew a woman could do.

"Better buckle up Brad because if you plan on mounting me, I plan on taking you for a wild ride," she said while imaging making love to him before fucking him.

For sure, unlike some women who only dabble when sucking a cock, appreciating the sexual lust that men have for her by getting and maintaining an erection, she's doesn't spit out what a man gives her in lustful pleasure. She's not a woman who tickles and teases without giving a man whatever he pleases. In the way that Brad's been staring at her shapely ass when she wears her leotard at the gym, especially when he didn't think she was looking, she couldn't wait to flash him her panties. In the way he's been staring at her big breasts that sexily shape, erotically form, and bulge out her skintight leotard, she couldn't wait to show him the tops of her meaty breasts, her long line of cleavage, and her sexy bra. Teasing him by tempting him and before sexually pleasing him, she couldn't wait to show him her naked body in the dimly lit ambience of her bedroom while Christopher watched.

Yet, controlling herself from sexually going overboard in her seduction of him, she didn't want him to have the wrong impression of her now that she's a senior citizen. Just because she once embraced the swinging lifestyle many years ago, not everyone has the same favorable opinion of swinging and of swingers. Not everyone is as sexually promiscuous, erotically adventurous, and as sensually daring as she is. With this still puritanical America, not everyone would want to have sex with multiple partners in a lifetime never mind in one night.

If only this was twenty years ago, instead of just planning to flash him her sexy underwear, she'd flash Brad her naked pussy and her bare breasts. If only this was twenty years ago, she would have already had sex with him on the gym floor, in the locker room, in the men's room, in his car, and in his apartment. If only this was twenty years ago, she wouldn't feel as ridiculous as she feels now with her dressing much younger than her age. If only this was twenty years ago, perhaps she'd be leaving Chris for Brad.

Only, she'd never leave Chris for Brad or for anyone. Her lifelong best friend, she doesn't love Brad in the way that she loves Chris, not even close. Always there for her, Chris is her rock. The love of her life, she loves Chris to death. Her drug of choice, Brad is just a sexy, sexual thing that she needs to experience to make her feel wanted, needed, and desired. In addition to him being her personal trainer, Brad was her private fountain of youth. She needed to suck out his energy for her to drink it before basking in the afterglow of orgasmic sex.

Yet, sex is much different than love. Sex is something that can be had without love. Then, when love is added to the formula and part of the sexual equation, there's nothing better than having sex with someone you love. Only, unable to let her sexuality go with the depletion of her estrogen, what Serena Williams is to tennis, Ann is to sex. In the way that Serena is a competitive and strong willed woman, so isn't she. Still clinging to her youth, she's desperately fighting to claim the brass ring. Only, her brass ring isn't metal at all but her grand prize in hoping and wanting Brad to give her an orgasm.

Yet, on the flip side of that coin, just because she loves Chris doesn't mean that she's sexually compatible with him, especially now that he's older, more rigid in his thinking, and more set in his ways. Whereas she's more of a free spirit and an adventuress, Brad is more her type and more her physical match. Yet, just because she sexually lusts over Brad doesn't mean that she loves him or could ever fall in love with him. Just because she wants Brad sexually doesn't mean that she no longer wants Chris emotionally, physically, spiritually, and even sexually. An integral part of her life, she wouldn't know what she'd do without Chris pulling her down from the ceiling by her ankles when she's angry and/or outrageous in her thoughts. Calming her with his assurance, his hugs, and his kisses, if Chris is anything, he's her pacifier whenever she gets her Detroit going on.