Frustrated

Ken chuckled to himself, "I don't want to go, but I know that you have guests coming round. Am I allowed to come back and play tomorrow?" he grinned.

"Whenever you want," Rosie stretched again as he kissed her goodbye. He tasted of her, but she didn't mind. It excited her.

Ken crept out of bed, and she watched him as he dressed. Yes, the skin on his back showed it had been exposed to many shirtless summers. She stared at his bottom; it was white against the tan of his back. It was firm, and the skin here was smooth and soft. The skin here, undamaged by the sun, was young and taut. She had the sudden urge to kiss it and squeeze it. She hid her face under the covers, suddenly shy at her wicked thoughts about this lovely man. When she came out again, he was dressed, and Ken stood in the doorway smiling.

"Do you have any idea how happy you have made me today? I feel younger. I feel handsome and virile, and I haven't felt like that in such a long time. Making you feel good has made me come alive again. Thank you," he said and quietly left.

Rosie lay back and thought, "Oh dear, I'm in trouble. Could I be falling for him?"

Six

Rosie was only just ready for the girls when they arrived. It wasn't like she was cooking for them; she didn't feel up to that; they would be ordering take-out. She wanted everything to be perfect, though. The wine was poured about three seconds after they arrived. Becky and Sharon, known as Shazzy, had been Rosie's friends from school. Recently, these get-togethers had been few and far between. That was why even the delicious Ken could not postpone this meeting. Rosie smiled when she thought of him, her afternoon in his arms.

Becky was married to Dale. No one liked him much, not even Becky most of the time. He didn't often warrant a mention. Becky's life was her career as a PA to a consultant at the hospital and her three children. Shazzy was small but mighty. Although she was only petite in stature, she made up for it with a big, bubbly personality and a huge laugh. She was married to the delicious Will. The other two friends adored him nearly as much as Shazzy. He was a bit of a dish, but more than that, his adoration for Shazzy shone out of him. They all agreed that Shazzy had lucked out on the husband's front.

"So," said Shazzy. "Who is he then?"

"Who's who?" Rosie asked, suddenly finding an imaginary speck on her wine glass.

"This bloke who has taken you off the shelf and given you a dusting?"

Becky stuttered as her wine went down the wrong way, "Typical Shazzy, don't hold back, don't be subtle? So, who is he then, Rosie?"

Rosie smirked. "I don't know what you mean."

"Come of it, Rosie," Shazzy laughed, "We've known you since we were kids. It's been quite obvious to us since we walked in. There's a glow about you, and it isn't from the wine or a new moisturiser. You've been......."

"Recently pleasured," Becky jumped in before Shazzy finished her sentence.

"That obvious?"

"Yes," they both chorused.

"OK, it's true, but we haven't gone all the way yet."

"All the way, what are we, teenagers?" snorted Shazzy, giggling.

"Well, that's how he makes me feel, like a silly, giddy teenager."

"You have got it bad; who is he then, and how did you meet him? You rarely leave this place nowadays."

"Not saying, I have been aware of him for a long time. He is a friend of -- a friend," said Rosie, choosing her words carefully, "He's also older than us."

"Rosie, I know finances are a bit tight now you are no longer working, and you've only got your pension, but you didn't have to look for a sugar daddy?"

"Don't be silly. I really like him. It is a long time since someone has made me feel like he does. I like it. Maybe that's what I need, someone to let me know I'm still desirable, even though I'm like this."

"Rosie, sweetheart, your mobility might be pants nowadays, but you are still just as fabulous. Look at you. We're still the ugly mates tagging along with our pretty friend."

"Don't be silly. I'm not having that; you two have always been gorgeous."

"Stop with the menopausal appreciation society," said Becky, "I want to know about this silver fox that Rosie has landed herself. For starters, how much older?"

"I'm not saying. It doesn't matter. He's cute and fit and the best at --" Rosie pulled herself up short--no more wine for her. The girls had never shared the actual details of their sex lives, and she wasn't going to start now. She had too much respect for Ken. She liked him too much.

Shazzy looked disappointed, but she couldn't complain; she had never shared the details of her passion with Will, though she knew the girls would like to know. Will was good at everything and always put her needs first; in every way, she was a fortunate woman indeed.

"So, is he 60 then, this mystery man?" Rosie looked away, "Older? Oh my god, Rosie, can he still get it up."

"He has no problems in that department, thank you, " snapped Rosie, suddenly very defensive of Ken. "He's from another generation, it's true. But I don't care. He's lovely. I like him, and he makes me happy."

"Well, then," said Becky, "That is all that matters to us. He can be 103, but if he makes you happy. That's all we need to know, isn't it Shazzy?" she said, staring pointedly at Shazzy.

"Of course," said Shazzy, "As long as you're happy. So, what exactly is he the best at?"

Seven

Ken came a little later than usual the morning after Rosie had her friends over. He wanted her to get her rest. In truth, he looked at his watch almost every minute. He was so anxious to see her again. She was on his mind constantly. He was acting like a silly teenager with a crush. That is precisely how he felt. It was Barbara Brady, his first crush all over again.

Barbara was a little redhead who lived on the next street. In those days, good girls were encouraged to wait till their wedding night. Not Barbara. Although they took it slow, eventually, young Ken achieved his goal. Unsure and inexperienced as they were, it was good enough for them to try and get together as often as they could. Eventually, Barbara spread her wings and flew off in pursuit of some other beau. Ken had been broken-hearted until he decided to spread his wings a little, too. Barbara always had a special place in the corner of his heart, though. She died a few years back, a reminder for Ken that he had to grab every opportunity that came his way. Not that he thought of Rosie as just a mere opportunity. No, but with her, he did have the chance to experience all those feelings again, perhaps for the last time.

Rosie had been up early; she had dressed especially for Ken. She was wearing a long champagne-satin nightgown with a bow at the waist. She took extra time with her hair and makeup. She wanted to be perfect for Ken. She rubbed her special scented body cream all over. She always got a little bit excited when she did this. Although her hands could never feel as good as someone else's, it still gave her a slight tingle. She smiled as she heard him come up the path. She wanted to excite him. She posed on the stool at her kitchen island, trying to look casual and carefree.

Ken opened the door and just stared. He didn't speak, couldn't talk.

"It's time, Ken," said Rosie. "Time for you to unwrap your present." She took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom. She walked in front of him so he would get a good view of her bottom as it wiggled, panty-less, under her gown.

Eventually, Ken found his voice, "You look magnificent, Rosie. Just stunning."

"Thank you. I wanted it to look my best for you today. It is a special occasion, the first time when we do everything. Well, almost everything," smiled Rosie, "The first time we go all the way. My friends laughed at me last night for saying that."

"You've told my friends about me," Ken said as he stroked her bare shoulders.

"They know about you, they know how old you are, they know you make me feel good, but they don't know your name."

"You're not ashamed of me then?" said Ken, amazed.

"No, I have lots of feelings about you, Ken; shame isn't one of them."

With that, Ken kissed her hard and passionately. He lowered his head and kissed her bare shoulders, tasting the scent of her body cream and tasting her.

As he continued kissing her, his hands roamed over the silky fabric encasing her body and gently squeezing her breasts and her nipples. Harder than ever now. His hands reached her bottom, her glorious bottom. He loved its shape, its fullness. He was hard too now, painfully; soon, he needed to release himself, or he would burst out of his trousers.

He was sensing this. Rosie kissed him again as she started to undress him. Soon, he was naked in front of her whilst she was still dressed. He scooped his hands in the front of her nightgown to free her breasts. He gasped then; he would never get bored of them. He gently edged her back onto the bed. As he was kissing and caressing her nipples, his other hand began to slide the silken fabric up her smooth thighs until he found the tight curls that covered her. His fingers explored her wetness. She moaned, panting gently as he found a rhythm with his fingers. The soft pads of his fingers circled and explored all she needed him too.

"Ken," she moaned, "Stop. Let's please each other at the same time." Ken smiled. He knew what she was asking. She rolled him on his back and sat astride him; the billowing fabric of her gown felt cool and sensuous on his skin. Why were men's fabrics always rough and hard when this satin felt so good? Not as good as the wet and willing warmth of Rosie's mouth as she engulfed him. Not as good as the delicious taste of her as he licked and sucked along her wetness. His fingers continued to explore her. Suddenly, she went crazy above him, undulating wildly as she came.

It was time now for their first real coupling. He needed to be inside her; he needed them to be together. Gently, he lay at the side of her and parted her legs. He moved himself above her as he entered her. It felt amazing. It had been so long. He had almost forgotten how good it could be with the right person. She was so tight, and Ken was suddenly nervous. He wasn't as fit as the younger men she would have been with before. He was desperate not to disappoint her at this point. What he did have, though, was experience. He knew how to make her feel good. He moved within her, keeping a steady pace. Young men thought it was all about the speed and variety, but a steady beat was always good. He went as deep as he could, and she moaned as she opened herself up entirely to him.

"Oh, Ken, that feels so good; please keep doing it just like that. Just keep going, please don't stop. Oh my god, what are you doing to me."

Feeling braver, Ken carried on as he took one of her delicious nipples in his mouth, licking and sucking it as he continued to thrust. He lost track of time, delighting in the pleasure that his old body was giving to this delicious woman. It was like riding a wave. Had it ever been this good? Eventually, Rosie came, and she clamped down on him in her orgasm. It was too much stimulation for Ken, and he filled her with his seed.

Afterwards, lying together, Rosie turned to Ken and smiled, "I don't usually come during intercourse, only through foreplay. That was amazing."

Ken smiled a huge smile as he stroked those beautiful shoulders. Sighing contentedly, he fell asleep with Rosie still nestled in his arms.

Eight

Rosie woke up. Ken was resting beside her. He was sleeping contentedly. He looked so relaxed and happy. She loved watching him like this. He had been dominant with her before, and although she adored their lovemaking, and that was what she was beginning to think it was, she had loved it when he abandoned himself in their passion.

He had enjoyed looking at her bottom earlier. She suddenly wanted to look at his. If she was honest, admiring his bottom was perhaps the first start of the arousal she felt for him when he was helping her. She gently pulled back the sheet to look at him. His buttocks were smooth and pale against the tan of his skin. Below his muscled bottom, she saw his balls resting on his thigh, still full and heavy. She started to feel the tingles of desire again; she was already wet for him.

"Oh, Ken, she whispered, what are you doing to me."

He stirred then and smiled at her as he opened his eyes. She bent to him, kissing each buttock gently before squeezing them together and covering them with lots of little kisses. As she did so, she gently stroked his balls with the tips of her fingers, occasionally scraping her nails over his precious sacks. Ken groaned and rolled over. He was hard for her again. She took his hand and placed it on her wetness, the pads of his fingers moving between her folds, rotating gently within her most secret places. She grasped him then, moving her hands slowly up and down his manhood, her movements matching his. She felt some moisture escape from the tip and run down her hands, lubricating them. She was on a mission now; could she make him come before he had pleasured her?

No, he was too good, and as he started to massage her, gently teasing her clit, she was soon lost, shuddering her pleasure on his fingertips. Her orgasm was too much for Ken, and he, too, started to pant in short, ragged bursts as he arched his back, his toes splaying as he came over her delicate fingers.

Laughing softly before curling up together to nap again, Rosie's warm breasts pressed up against Ken's broad back. It was his turn to be the little spoon.

They were still asleep together when her parents found them. Apparently, they had been ringing and panicking when Rosie had not answered. They were worried that Rosie may have had a fall. They hadn't considered that she had fallen into bed with their old friend.

Rosie and Ken had no time to think as, in his rage, her Dad threw the glass of water Rosie always kept by her bed over Ken. Drops of water splashed over her, too, as she became conscious. As Ken spluttered, she grasped for him to check that he was okay. As she became more aware of the situation, she held him tighter.

"Dad, what the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Trying to save you from this dirty old bastard," her dad roared. "My own friend defiling my daughter!"

Ken was suddenly sitting up in bed. "Look, I know this is a shock, but we're not doing anything wrong. Don't you dare try to make something beautiful and special sordid? I love Rosie, and I would never do anything to hurt her."

The silence that followed was deafening as no one seemed willing to speak.

"Come on, Jim," said Mum. "This is none of our business, is it? I know it was a shock, but we've never been able to have an opinion on who Rosie sees since she was a teenager, have we?"

Dad just growled at this point. His dander was still up. Mum carried on,

"Remember that Martin. She lived with him for years, and you could never abide him. At least you like Ken."

"Well, I did until this," grumbled Dad, who seemed to be rapidly calming down.

"Come on," said Mum, "We'll go into the kitchen, and I'll make us all a nice cup of tea whilst these two get dressed -- and dried off," she added, "You take sugar, don't you, Ken? I'll give you two today, you need to keep your energy levels up," she smirked as she guided a still grumbling Dad out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen.

Ken helped me strip the wet bed in silence.

"Did you mean what you said?" Rosie asked quietly.

"I don't say things I don't mean; you should know that by now."

"So, you love me?"

"Yes, and don't worry, you don't have to say it back. I've felt like this for weeks, even before that first kiss. It's just the way I feel; I can't help it. This last week has just deepened what I feel. I haven't felt like this for a long time. I understand that it may need to stop now, and you may need to take a step back. You need to understand that I will still feel the same way. It won't change the fact that I love you."

"Oh, Ken, there won't be any stepping away. I want this to carry on. I don't care what anyone else thinks -- I love you, too."

Ken held her in his arms, just like that first time in her bedroom. There was no hesitation this time; he knew now that she needed him just as much as he needed her.

"We better get dressed," he smiled, kissing her cheek gently. "And face the music."

Taking his arm, they walked towards the kitchen to face the future together.

This is my last story for the foreseeable future as my ongoing health problems take yet another interesting turn.

Thank you to those who have read and favourited my stories. My profile here said 'not a writer' for a long time. Just for a little while, you made me feel like I was.

Thank you for your kindness.

Tanya x