Confession

"Oh, Glynnis!" To my surprise – shock, even – Jonathan laughed, "I'm very flattered! And if you don't mind me wandering around stark naked, I certainly don't mind if you enjoy the view."

"You are joking, surely? I mean to say, Jonathan, I... well, I really did enjoy the view. Physically if you see what I mean."

"Glynnis, I get the impression you're beating yourself up over this and there's no need whatsoever. Like I said, it's very flattering..." He broke off for a moment and then gave a chuckle, "I seem to recall now that I might have enjoyed towelling off a little more than is seemly this morning. I guess that didn't help much, did it?"

The directness brought flaming colour to my cheeks, but now that I knew he wasn't mad at me – was quite the opposite, in fact – I felt bold enough to answer honestly, "Well, yes, you're right. It's been a long time since my George died and, well, I guess things were building up inside me."

"That sounds dangerous, so I'm glad that I have helped a little. In fact, now that I think about it, it's more than just flattering, it's rather nice altogether."

I shook my head, "That's very kind of you, Jonathan, but I'm sure you don't really mean that."

"Oh, I'm totally serious. I love the image it conjures up. A bit like I'm waking some wonderful creature that's been sleeping for years and years."

"There's nothing wonderful in me any more."

"Nonsense!" Jonathan's eyes moved over my body in a way that gave me the sort of goosebumps that I hadn't felt since I was a teenager, "You're a fine looking woman and knowing that there's all of that repressed sexuality in there is quite the turn-on."

The boldness of his words and the inclusion of 'sexuality' sent the goosebumps into overdrive. Fortunately my logic circuits kicked in, ""You're being very kind to a foolish woman, and I'm very grateful. As I said, I'm really sorry-"

"Stop with the apologies. And also stop putting yourself down. I mean every word I say."

Suddenly I was desperate to get away – it was ll too good to be true and a big part of me didn't want to burst the bubble. Despite Jonathan's protests I virtually ran back to my flat, muttering apologies all the way.

I spent the afternoon and evening doing something I hadn't done for many a year – drinking steadily. I had hoped that it would help me forget the embarrassment of the day, but instead it had me daring to hope that Jonathan hadn't been just polite about everything. Finally, somewhere around ten o'clock, sanity kicked in and I went to bed happy that I had at least confessed my crime to the victim, and that the victim was not too unhappy with me – which was altogether the best I could hope for under the circumstances.

I awoke with an unaccustomed headache – I wonder why – and padded through to the kitchen for tea and paracetamol. It was only seven-thirty and I had a good two hours or so to recover before work, so I toasted some bread and spread it thickly with marmalade. I was still standing there forcing down a few mouthfuls twenty minutes later when I heard the shower turn on next door. I gave a rueful smile and acknowledged to myself that at least I had got some pleasure out of things as well as all the embarrassment. The latter had me scurrying over to the sink and washing my breakfast things, determined to be out of sight when Jonathan made an appearance.

I reached the door just as the shower turned off, and something made me pause just for a few seconds. A tiny part of my subconscious wanted me to check something out before I careered off back to my life of celibate boredom, and I turned back to face Jonathan's kitchen. Just a couple of seconds later, he strode into his living room, naked but for the towel around his neck. I swear my heart nearly choked me.

I watched with disbelief as he switched on the TV and set about drying himself, just as he had the previous morning. When he reached the point where he began to dry his groin, he flicked a quick look over his shoulder and grinned hugely before turning back to his task.

I stood slack-jawed in the doorway as the truth finally found its way past the dozens of barricades that my self-esteem had set in its path. Jonathan hadn't been lying to me, hadn't been trying to spare my feelings. He stood there now, deliberately displaying himself and in the full knowledge that I found it arousing. I was dumbfounded and delighted, scarcely daring to believe my luck. It was just about to get better.

When he turned and faced me this morning, slowly, teasingly, I could see – oh-so clearly – that his erection was full. I could see the veins standing out proud along the rigid shaft, the deep pink hue of the bulging end. I could even see the glimmer of moisture at its very tip.

Jonathan's voice cut through the wonderful daze that had come over me.

"Glynnis! I hope you believe me now!"

"I... I don't know what to say!"

"No need for words. I was thinking all afternoon about you standing there yesterday. Such a fine looking woman, such passion buried there. And I thought about how you reacted to me yesterday and I just had to show you what effect it has on me. What effect you have on me."

The full impact of what he was saying took my breath away and I just uttered a noise somewhere between a laugh and a moan.

Jonathan's hand dropped to that magnificent cock and he gave it a single, slow stroke, "There's just one problem, Glynnis. You're too far away."

My knees really did buckle for a moment and a surge of excitement broke over me like a tidal wave, leaving every nerve end tingling. Could he really mean...?

The tinkle of keys clattering onto my kitchen floor made me gasp. I looked up to see Jonathan's smile and he gestured to the keys. "Please, Glynnis! It's your fault I'm like this right now. The least you could do is come over and help."

"Do you..." It was all I could manage.

"Do I want you to pick up those keys and come to my apartment? Yes, totally. Absolutely. And right now would be very good indeed."

I bent as if hypnotised, one trembling hand clutching the keys at the third attempt. With no thought in my mind but for the prospect of sexual release, I stood and walked quickly through my apartment, out the door and along to Jonathan's. It took several attempts before I managed to insert the key in the lock and I stumbled into his hallway, my pulse racing.

I looked towards the living room but he was nowhere to be seen, and it was only when I heard his voice floating from the bedroom that I realised I wasn't dreaming.

"Glynnis, I really need you."

I walked into the room to find him standing there waiting for me, his erection even more pronounced, even more desirable.

I shook my head, "I can't quite believe this."

"It's real," Jonathan said, stepping forward.

He bent low and scooped up the hem of my nightdress. As he stood, he raised his arms in one movement, pulling the gown over my head, leaving me naked before him. I felt so completely, wonderfully exposed. My nipples were rigid and aching, my pussy wet and needy.

When he gave a low whistle and said "You are beautiful, a real, wonderful woman", I didn't know whether to cry, moan, laugh, or scream with pleasure.

When he reached out his hands, placed them on my shoulders and then let them drift down to cup my breasts, squeezing oh-so gently, I let out a moan of pure pleasure.

In slow-motion, Jonathan brought his lips to mine, kissing deeply but softly. They moved on to my shoulders, my chest, and my breasts, where teeth and tongue teased my nipples. Then lower, slowly meandering across my belly, on to my hip, across my thigh were they lingered for a moment. Then slowly inwards where those lips almost, almost met my own, where that tongue licked everywhere but where I needed it, the teasing driving me to moan aloud. His response was immediate, his mouth going to my pussy, his tongue probing inside me, flicking at my clitoris in a way that had me gasping. I could feel my juices flowing wildly, feel a climax building deep inside – and as he pulled his head away I felt a yearning sense of loss of a few seconds until I opened my eyes and saw his face staring down at me, his smile lighting up my personal heaven.

Lower I could feel the heat of his erection pressing softly against my welcoming, wet lips and I shifted my weight, lifting my hips to tell him that I wanted him, and wanted him now. With the slightest nod of acknowledgement, Jonathan pushed his hips forward and the head of that magnificent cock entered me. I cried out in sheer delight, writhing with the joy, and he responded with a quiet moan of pleasure as he thrust deeply inside me, filling me with his manhood.

My first orgasm crashed through me within seconds, a decade of desire released in a wave of pure ecstasy. The second arrived ten minutes or thirty minutes or an hour later – I've no idea to this day – and as I rode upwards on the spiral of that glorious climax, Jonathan rode with me, our bodies locked in perpetual pleasure-giving movement. I felt him grow rigid in my arms and the knowledge that he was just about to release his come into me pushed me over into a climax that left me stunned.

Afterwards, as we lay panting in the tangled mess of his bed, our juices mingling inside me and down my thighs, Jonathan caressed my breasts with his fingers, lips and tongue. He spent a long time kissing me, savouring my taste, and he told me again and again how grateful he was to me for being so honest. If I had any doubt about his sincerity, it was blown away entirely when he apologised – really – and said that he just couldn't let me go anywhere before he had been allowed to make love to me again.

And so we did. Slowly at first, with much gentle talk of things that we secretly love and had loved. We talked of dares and chances taken, of how it felt to be watched, what positions we had tried and which ones we had loved. We agreed that we would both enjoy being caught in the throes of passion, we agreed that we would enjoy each other's bodies after that day had ended.

Jonathan made me feel so young and vibrant that day, and the climax I enjoyed that third time was beyond anything I had ever experienced before. For every second that the shudders and shakes coursed through me, Jonathan stared deep into my eyes, his own orgasm joining mine, his attention focused on nothing but me and us and sexual release.

I felt re-born – and I do to this day. Jonathan is still my neighbour and we enjoy each other's company, and each other's body, every few days. We've even travelled a little together. And we've found out that getting caught in the throes of passion really is as much fun as we thought.

And I've learned that confession really is good for you. In so many ways.