By Design Ch. 05

She was in tears when she saw me, and I quickly took her to the car and got her settled in. Between sobs, I managed to get a picture of what had happened. Her only relative, her brother the priest, had suffered a massive heart attack and passed before the paramedics and doctors could save him. Her grief was compounded by the fact that she had no living relatives, and felt the loneliness, and, I suspect, the fear that she would be gone all too soon.

I did the best I could, and probably made a few mistakes over the next few weeks. I had enough overtime banked that I could take the time off and be with her through the funeral arrangements, memorial service and sorting out what little estate there was.

When all was said and done, she was the sole owner of the cottage, along with a small bequest and insurance payment, but she was still quite subdued, and at times disconsolate.

There were times when all she needed was to be held, and when we did make love, it was gentle, pretty much vanilla, and nothing like the adventurous couplings we had experienced over the past 18 months. My bright, sparkling mature Irish woman was in her shell and I had to find a way to bring her back to life.

First was getting her back to her regularly scheduled spa days, and with Emma's help, she started feeling better about her looks. Next was me persuading her not to spend all her time sitting on the couch listening to music, and so I proposed we take some walks, where she could get some fresh air and talk. She resisted at first, but I insisted. So, we started off slowly, and soon she was beginning to come out of her shell as we talked, and a lot of her neighbours took the time to chat.

The turning point came when she asked if I thought she should get something more comfortable to wear on the walks, something more casual. Off to the mall we went, and she surprised me by buying a couple of pairs of lycra leggings, a comfortable long sleeved T-shirt type top that went down below her ass, a baggy sweater of the same length, and comfortable runners.

When she saw my surprised look, she glared at me and for a moment the old Maureen emerged.

"What?" she asked, "I am going for a walk, not to the office and if you can wear those arse hugging running shorts of yours, then at least I can wear something more exercise appropriate!"

"Oh, I'm not complaining Maureen!" I teased, "I think your ass will look absolutely gorgeous in those tights!" which got me a smack on the arm.

Her ass was indeed beautiful in the leggings, and there was an added benefit. Whenever we returned and sat down for a drink, the feel of the spandex on her bum and legs was too much to resist, and stoking her ass got her warmed up. Apart from that, her clit was so accessible, and by stroking her pussy through the material I could have her twitching and coming in an instant.

She gradually began to lighten up over the weeks and then months, helped I am sure by the fact that she did lose a bit of weight, and her thighs and calves began to firm up. I really did like the look of her ass in those leggings, though.

I still missed my cheerful, playful and sexy Maureen, and with her birthday coming up I had to plan something that would take her mind off adding another year to her age and the passing of her brother. It took a fair bit of research and planning, but I managed to set things in motion.

The week before her birthday, I told her that we would be heading out of town to a city a couple hours away, staying Friday and Saturday night at a hotel, and taking in a live show on Saturday evening.

"No questions, Maureen, but I'm sure you will want to look your best for the show, so think about your best evening gown and accessories," I told her, "Oh, and Emma said she could squeeze you in for a quick touch up session on Thursday evening. I'll drive."

She began to grill me on what, where and how much I had spent, but I fobbed her off with a "it's a birthday surprise, so my lips are sealed" response.

She growled at me, but I could see a bit of a grin on her face as she went about getting her clothes sorted for the trip.

I loaded our bags into the car before we left for work on Friday, she took a change of clothes to the office and would shift to casual dress after work. I did the same, opting to shower at the plant and clean up before heading out to pick her up.

Maureen had changed into a set of dark purple leggings, an oversized scoop necked sweater that came down to the top of her thighs, and small ankle boots. She was full of questions.

"What have you got planned?"

"It's a secret, and nothing you can do will get me to reveal it," I grinned.

"Oh, really?" she grinned and reached over to rub my cock.

"Yup, your wily Irish ways will be resisted, completely!"

"We'll see!" as she turned in her seat and bent her knee up, and lifted the hem of her sweater, revealing no knickers under her leggings.

"In that case, I will just have to tempt you a little," as she began to stroke her spandex covered clit, right there alongside me, "I am sure you will spill the beans before too long, or before I cum, because I felt your little boy bit struggling to get out!"

"Grr, in the words of that immortal Englishman, I will nevah surrendah!" I replied, desperately trying to keep my eyes on the road.

It was a battle of wits, and yes, she did cum, and was not a happy camper that she didn't get a word out of me. When we pulled into the hotel, which was a high end Marriott, she was quiet, but gave me an earful when we reached the room, mostly because I didn't tell her that we were going to an "upscale establishment" and here she was, in her opinion, far too casually dressed for the occasion.

I probably made things worse by telling her I thought the bellhop was enchanted with the view of her "cute Irish ass". She slugged my arm but gave me a soft kiss.

"Well, let me change into something more appropriate, and you can make it up to me with a fine evening meal, you heathen Scot!" she instructed.

With that she took off her jumper, revealing she had not only gone knickerless, but also braless, (the hussy), found a lacy bra to put on, and slid a dress on over her leggings, and looked at me.

"Well, boyo," she said, "you have a lot to make up for, so start by escorting your lovely old maiden to dinner!"

I had my old Maureen back.

I took her to a quiet restaurant and managed to score a corner table. We ordered food and decided on a nice white wine. She was quite chatty and inquisitive, but very sneaky. As we ate and chatted, she started rubbing my leg with her ankle boot.

"So, Ben, what's on the agenda?"

"Hmmm, well I thought that we could have a nice meal, get back to the room, we could test the bed, perhaps with an after dinner snack being, umm, oral sex?"

"Perve, that's what I would call preliminaries. What's on the menu for tomorrow?"

"Well, we could sleep in and cuddle, or have noisy morning sex, then I could take to that neighbouring mall and you could spend some time looking at what's there that takes your fancy."

"And after that?"

"How about lunch?" which got me a kick on the shin.

"The rest of your plan -- spill the beans, Mister!"

"Hmm, at my advanced age, after all that exercise in the morning I may need an afternoon nap, and then maybe a snack and a movie -- do you like popcorn, with or without butter?"

She had a grin on her face, so I wasn't sure if her threat to turn me into a eunuch was serious or not. Then she threated to impose an embargo on all activities of a sexual nature, for an indefinite period of time.

"Ouch," I responded, "how will Miss Clitty feel about that? If I recall it was she that started all this by getting you to rub her on my wrist in the darkened halls of the file room?"

"You are a heathen brat!" she said with a smile, "but you had better not have spent a fortune on me, and I will find out one way or another!"

"You know I love to spoil you, you gorgeous, cantankerous sexy old maid!" I said.

"Enough, you lout, let's finish up here and get back so that I can use my sweet Irish charm to have you grovelling and telling me all before too long!"

She did just that -- try anything and everything, starting with stripping me, pushing me back on the bed, mounting a fearsome oral attack on my "boy bit", then rubbing her lycra covered crotch up and down the shaft, before succumbing to the urge to strip them off and mount me.

Pressing her hands to my shoulders, she began to ride me hard.

"Spill, brat!" she demanded.

"I'm not quite there yet, but if you keep up that pace, I am sure you will get something," I teased. She growled at me and rode me harder, her tits swinging above my face, and her massive clit grinding into my pubic bone. I snuck a hand under her arms and squeezed one of her nipples hard.

"Aaargh, you little bastard!" she yelled as her pussy clamped around my cock and she came hard. That gave me the opportunity to hump up just as my balls emptied their load deep inside her.

She collapsed on my chest after the glorious cowgirl induced orgasm had wracked her body.

"I love you, Ben," she whispered, flushed in a post orgasmic haze.

I gave her a hug and then a kiss, "I love you too, Maureen," I whispered, as she fell into a light sleep without a clue on what was to come.

We slept in the next morning, and when I woke, she was still draped across my legs, the fruits of our session drying on my thighs. I kissed her softly and she opened her eyes.

"We need to shower and get going. You are going to tell me what the plan is, please, please Ben!" she begged.

I grinned.

"If the punishment for keeping the secret is what you did to me last night, my lips are sealed, gorgeous woman!"

At which point, she bit my nipple hard in frustration.

We showered and dressed, headed to the hotel dining room for a late breakfast and then on to the major mall, which was attached to the hotel. The whole setup was designed to attract people downtown, hotel, big shopping centre, and an entertainment complex all connected.

While she browsed the stores, I checked out the restaurants, finding one that looked pretty decent and made an early reservation for the evening. After texting her to find out where she was, I joined her as she was going into a jewellery store.

"See anything you like?" I asked, innocently

"Ben," she growled, "you have already spent more on me this weekend than I ever expected. You are not going to waste more of your money on me, and that's final!" she said, as she drooled over a display of fine gold necklaces.

"OK, but which one do you really like?" I teased, which earned me a glare. She spent a lot of time looking and having the sales assistant pull items from the display cases. She obviously narrowed it down to one but was hesitant to take the next step.

I snuck around her and slid my credit card to the lady, who just smiled. I did not want to think about what my bill would be like at the end of the month.

Before Maureen could protest, the transaction was completed, and the lady took the necklace with its pearl pendant and boxed it, then presented it to her. Maureen went red as the lady told her to be quick and take it before I changed my mind.

Maureen looked at me, eyes glistening.

"Thank you, Ben," she said quietly, "but I am still mad at you!"

I gave her a hug and kissed her forehead.

We spent a fair bit of time window shopping, finally ending up at a wine bar where we had a light lunch and watched the world go by.

After a while, she looked at me and tried again.

"Just how formal is this event tonight?" she began.

"Well, the restaurant is high end, so kinda more than office formal," I responded.

"I meant the show, perve, and don't make me hurt you!" she responded with a grin.

"Umm, not quite meet the Prince of Lichtenstein formal, more like chat with the Lord Mayor of Londonderry formal," I said.

"There are no such persons, you clown, now show me the tickets, I want to see the proof in writing," she demanded.

"Well, that's a fail for me," I said, "no paper, just an electronic QR code on my phone, which even I can't read," I lied, just a little.

She growled in frustration.

"So how am I to know just what to wear under my 'more than office formal' gown," she smiled, and tried again, "knickers or no knickers, girls swinging free or trapped in a harness?"

"Well I am sure the Lord Mayor would love a glimpse of those twin beauties, and I don't know if he's the touchy feely kind who may love to cop a feel of a gorgeous knickerless ass, so best left up to you I would say," I teased.

She picked up her cell phone and started typing away.

"Need help?" I asked.

"Nay, just getting the telephone number for the nearest Emergency Department on speed dial, because you will be needing treatment after I am finished with you," she declared.

"Ahh, should we get back to the room now so you can take your time with the punishment?" I asked.

She glared at me, but gathered up her purchases, and stood, expectantly. I took my time finishing the last of my wine, then stood and took her arm.

"Let's get this over with, then, gorgeous," I smiled.

Back in the room, she pushed me onto the bed, knelt over me and unbuttoned my shirt. She began with an assault on my nipples, biting and sucking, as I squirmed beneath her, trying to get my hands under her skirt and distract her by stroking her pussy. She jumped back and began to unbuckle my pants, pulling the zip down and digging for my cock.

"Let's see how you react to me nipping on this, my fine lad!" she crowed.

"OK, Ok" I surrendered, "I'll tell you what you want to know!"

"Spill!" she demanded.

"Well, knowing your love of music, I got tickets for a country music concert, you know, singers, fiddlers, guitars, drums, the whole experience."

"A 'more than office formal wear' country music concert!" she looked at me as though I had gone crazy.

"Well, you know country music fans," I rationalized, "they get dressed up to the nines and go crazy at those events, I didn't want you feeling out of place."

She leaned over and looked deep into my eyes.

"I am worried about you. I am sure you've lost your mind. Maybe I should schedule a scan for you so that we can tell if that's not what's happened to your head. But it's ok, I understand that you are an engineer and incapable of stringing multiple logical thoughts together. But, after all this time, you still don't have a clue on just how ladies, and this one in particular, does not like being stared at by a crowd, wondering what fashion planet she comes from!"

"I'm dreadfully sorry, Maureen," I pleaded, "how can I make it up to you?"

She stood and slipped off her skirt, then her tights and panties, and crawled up the bed straddling my face.

"By paying homage to Miss Clitty, and with enough vigour to make her extremely happy and forgiving," she responded.

I set to work, tonguing, probing, sucking, and licking that wonderful clit and the neighbouring bare lips as she twitched above me, groaning and gripping the girls as she rode my face. She was obviously excited, hopefully from the relaxing and fun weekend we had already begun, because soon her pussy started leaking onto my face, and she rubbed herself on my chin and tongue even faster.

"Ohhh fugggg," she yelled and ground herself onto my face, "cumming!" as a flood of nectar rushed from her pussy.

She collapsed by the side of me, breathing heavily.

"Need a nap after that,' she moaned.

I pulled her close and gave her a kiss.

"Good idea, let me get us cleaned up, just stay there,"

I got up, removed my trousers, but kept the boxers on in case of a further assault, and went to the bathroom to wash my face and bring a warm cloth back for her. I cleaned up the juices around her slit and thighs, and then lay down and pulled her close, she was already half asleep.

When we woke, we had a little more than an hour before our dinner reservation, so Maureen bustled off to the bathroom to shower and get ready. I joined her in the shower, but with little time to spare, it was all business. She wore a shower cap to keep her hair dry, and I teased her a bit about that, which got me a soft punch on the arm, and a threat to my manhood.

I watched her transform into an elegant woman, a dark green scoop neck evening gown with a slit up to mid thigh, black silk underwear, all over a matching garter belt and her go-to seamed stockings and sensible heels. She spent a lot of time on her makeup and smiled at me when I said I thought her eye makeup was smoking hot. I added her new pearl necklace and she looked ravishing. She wrapped a shawl around her shoulder, picked up a small clutch purse, and we headed out.

We set out on the short walk to the restaurant, arriving right on time. It was upscale and she was definitely not out of place in her attire, which got me a sly grin as we walked to the table.

As we worked our way through a very enjoyable meal, she warmed up a bit, and began asking me if I really and truly liked country music. It wasn't my favourite genre, but there were some artists I did like, which seemed to satisfy her.

As we strolled back to the hotel and adjacent auditorium, she hugged my arm and rested her head on my shoulder.

"Thank you for this Ben, it's been a wonderful birthday build up for me!"

"My pleasure, Maureen, I hope you enjoy the concert, as well."

"I'm sure I will," she teased, "after all, who could not, it's country music after all!"

We exited at the hotel and used the connecting walkway to stroll to the concert auditorium. As we got closer, the billboards and advertising screens were flashing the featured event.

She blinked and stopped suddenly.

"You jerk, Ben" she growled, "you led me along with that 'country music' nonsense!"

I kissed her forehead and smiled.

"Not really, love, just neglected to mention which country!"

"Arsehole!" she muttered.

There in the bright flashing lights was the show "Celtic Thunder", "A celebration of Irish country music."

There aren't enough words, or time in the day to fully describe the whole experience. Even though, according to her, I was a "heathen Scot", I truly enjoyed the evening. There were a lot of highlights, but it was the finale that stands out.

I could not have imagined my matronly, quirky, grumpy old landlady standing with the rest of the audience, belting out the chorus to "Ireland's call", swaying, feet tapping, arms akimbo and dragging me into her embrace.

Ireland, Ireland,

Together standing tall!

Shoulder to shoulder,

We'll answer Ireland's call!

When the lights finally came up, she sat down, flushed and bright eyed. Speechless for once. We waited for the crowd to slowly disperse and then gathered our bits and pieces for the stroll back to the hotel.

As we entered the walkway, she stopped and turned to me.

"You will have to find a new job on Monday, Ben," she said fiercely, pulling me down into a deep kiss, "you will be so dumb, you will be useless and won't be able to function. Because, my wonderful lover, I am going to fuck your brains out all night long!" and then dragged me to the hotel foyer and elevators to our floor.

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