tagMatureJust When I Thought It Was Over

Just When I Thought It Was Over

byPussymad42©

Following a number of requests, this story is about an older woman in her late sixties. I am very grateful to Amorone and Sparktj who gave me some good feedback on an early draft of this story. Having published a few stories about younger mature women, this one takes me back to the area where I first published. I've published a few stories recently and they take a fair bit of time to write, redraft and edit so I intend to take a break from writing to devote time to other things. For those who appreciate my work, I promise you I will be back. I think that a few of the stories I've written, including this one, have the potential for a sequel or I could write an entirely new story. Which project I choose to tackle next will depend on the feedback I get from my readers so if you have a preference regarding what story I write next, please get in touch. As usual, I enjoy hearing from people who enjoy my work and I will always reply asap.

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My parents called me Elizabeth, which was quite a popular name in 1950 due to the young princess who was soon to be Queen. In those post-war years, life wasn't easy but the whole country had a renewed sense of purpose and pride, having triumphed against the Nazis in WWII. We grew up with a strong sense of morals but also a sense that life was for living and to be honest, life was pretty good in many respects. Kids today have far more but I still wouldn't give up my childhood for theirs. Growing up, I fooled around a bit with boys, like any young girl does, but I was always careful not to let things go too far.

I lost my virginity when I was 17 years old to a young man I was engaged to, called Malcolm. I thought I'd virtually saved myself for 'Mr Right' as a good girl should as we were at least engaged but the sex we had was crushingly disappointing. Looking back, I realise he was largely inept in bed and his rather small penis didn't help but at the time I simply thought it was a sign to tell me that we weren't meant to be together. Returning his engagement ring was the hardest thing I'd ever done because I genuinely feared I wouldn't find anyone else. Fortunately, life has a way of working out for the best.

It was a couple of years after that when I finally met the real 'Mr Right' and I fell deeply in love. George was 27 years old when we married and I was just 19 and it was the start of a wonderful adventure. He became my best friend and my lover and this time I'd found a real lover. George was considerate in bed and was able to make me very wet before entering me with his lovely 7 inch penis that filled me up perfectly. We never did have any children but we did enjoy a very active and fulfilling sex life together and that was important to me as I discovered with George that I really enjoyed sex. I can honestly say that I never had even the slightest inclination to cheat on him because he was all the man I could ever want.

Tragically, my beloved George passed away when he was just 66 years old, which really isn't that old by today's standards. The last 10 years have been very lonely for me and I miss him every day. There were certainly times when I felt that fate had cheated me of part of my life. Not only did I find myself widowed at just 58 years old but George had been impotent due to poor health for 5 years before that so here I am, a 68 year old woman who hadn't been enjoyed by a man for 15 years and at such an old age, I had no realistic chance of it ever happening again. As far as I could see, my sex life was over and the fact that it ended when I was relatively young was just one of those things in life.

To try to keep myself occupied and alert as I grew older, I joined a few local groups like a choir, a dance class and I even started to play the ukulele with an over sixties group that was fun. The idea of sex didn't feature at all in my life anymore, partly because it seemed impossible as most men around my age would probably be largely incapable and partly because I couldn't imagine giving myself to anyone but George. But for that one caveat, my life was actually quite good and I'd learned to cope quite well on my own with just my pet King Charles Spaniel, Max, for company. Things changed one fateful night in May.

I was walking Max as usual at about 10.30pm before going to bed. I usually always took the same route but on this particular evening I'd seen a group of teenagers drinking cans of lager in the distance so decided to take a detour to avoid them. I knew all of the streets around my home very well indeed so the fact that the streetlights were out didn't particularly bother me, especially as my detour was taking me through a very quiet housing estate. I was just approaching my friend Diane's house, who I knew from the choir, and noticed an unfamiliar car in her driveway. Diane was widowed a few years ago and I was just wondering if she'd perhaps bought a new vehicle when the front door opened. I was going to call across to say good evening but then a man I'd never seen before came out, closely followed by Diane who was in her dressing gown. This unexpected scene made me stop in my tracks and instead of making myself known, I decided to remain in the shadows. Diane is a couple of years older than me and the man looked to be about fifty so I naturally assumed she'd had some domestic emergency and had to call out a tradesman. Clearly that wasn't the case when I saw them kiss goodbye and it wasn't just a friendly kiss, it was quite a passionate kiss!

As I arrived home I wasn't sure what to make of what I'd seen. The way they'd parted and the fact she was just in her dressing gown suggested a very intimate relationship but she'd never mentioned being in a relationship with a man and even if she was, the man I'd seen was considerably younger. She was 70 for goodness sake!

The next day I bumped into Diane at the shops and decided to do a bit of fishing.

'Hello Diane, how are you today?' I asked cheerfully.

'Oh, the same old aches and pains I'm afraid but I mustn't grumble,' she replied.

'There was a fascinating documentary on last night about a NASA probe visiting Jupiter; did you see it?' I asked.

'No, I missed that I'm afraid. What time was it on?'

'About ten,' I replied casually.

'A bit late for me I'm afraid,' she lied. 'I was feeling really tired last night so I was asleep by then.'

'I'm sure it will be repeated some time and I imagine you could find it on the i-player,' I suggested and after a little more idle chat we parted with me left even more curious about what was going on.

I saw no obvious reason why she should lie about what had happened and it struck me that even if she was in bed at that time, she certainly wasn't sleeping! For the next couple of weeks I made a point of walking past Diane's house at about the same time to see if I saw that man visiting her again but every night, everything appeared to be just as I would have expected. I was on the point of giving up when almost two weeks since I'd first seen this strange man at Diane's house, I spotted his car there again. I concealed myself in the shadows and waited. Sure enough, at just gone 10.30pm, the door opened and the same young man stepped out and once again, Diane was just wearing her dressing gown. They kissed again before parting and this time I noticed him squeezing her bum as they kissed. She clearly didn't object to the experience and held his head as their tongues explored each other.

Lying in bed that night I felt a strange mixture of shock and jealousy. There was now no doubt in my mind that Diane was having a sexual relationship with this mystery man but he was young enough to be her son and what about her poor departed husband? How could she do such a thing after just a few short years? As uncomfortable as it made me feel, I was also jealous that this woman, who was even older than me, apparently had an active sex life when I hadn't enjoyed such pleasures since I was 53! My mind turned to George as I lay there and for the first time in many, many years, my fingers started to stroke my long abandoned vagina. My clitoris immediately responded to my touch and I could feel myself getting wetter as I remembered the times when George's fingers would expertly prepare me for him to make love to me.

'Oh George, I miss you,' I sighed as I pushed a finger into my tight hole and to my surprise, I felt a small orgasm ripple through my long dormant body. Having found at least some small crumb of release, I slept peacefully that night with dreams of the sexual joy I'd had with George mingling with images of the sexual satisfaction Diane had undoubtedly received that night. The next morning I awoke knowing that I had to satisfy my curiosity so just after lunch I went to call on Diane on the pretext of checking in which key we had decided to do our latest song in the choir. The old lady who answered the door was every inch the woman I knew so well and it seemed impossible to reconcile her with the image I'd seen the previous evening. After a great deal of small talk while we sipped our tea, I decided to take the bull by the horns.

'I see the council still haven't got around to fixing the streetlamps in your street,' I commented as casually as I could.

'No, it's been weeks now with no sign of any workmen but with money so tight, I doubt the council see this quiet little street as a priority,' she replied.

'I walk Max along here every night and even with no lighting in the street, it's amazing the sort of things you can see,' I said, giving her a few moments to consider the implications of what I'd said.

'Really!' she eventually responded. 'What sort of things have you seen?'

'Well,' I grinned, 'last night for instance I noticed that you had a visitor.'

Silence.

'A male visitor,' I prompted.

'Oh, he was just my financial advisor who came to speak to me about a couple of my policies,' she claimed, not stopping to realise how ridiculous such a claim was given the time in the evening we were talking about.

'He must be very good given the way you were kissing him and even then, I wouldn't have thought it was appropriate for a financial advisor to feel your bum the way he did.'

'Ah, you saw that,' she eventually said, realising she was caught.

'Yes, I did,' I confirmed. 'Who on earth was he and what are you doing?'

Suddenly she became a little more defiant: 'I'm enjoying myself Elizabeth and I'm not hurting anybody so please don't judge me like I'm committing a crime.'

Now it was me on the defensive as I had no desire to upset or offend my friend. 'I'm not judging you at all, I'm just curious to know what you're doing and why,' I asked.

'If you must know, he's a man I see from time to time.'

'But he looks so much younger than you,' I said, unable to hide my shock, even though she'd merely confirmed my suspicions.

'He's a lot younger; he's 49 but that doesn't make any difference.'

'I think most people would find it very unusual that a 70 year old has a 49 year old boyfriend!' I gasped.

'He's not my boyfriend or anything of the sort Beth as neither of us wants a relationship in the way you're implying. He's just a man I see and we enjoy sex together, nothing else. Don't you miss a sex life?' she countered.

'Yes, of course I do,' I admitted, 'but he's just using you for sex. It all seems quite tawdry.'

'Have you thought about the possibility that it's me who is using him for sex?' she asked.

'Well, no...., but.....,' I petered out.

'Look Beth, he's a man whose company I really enjoy, he treats me with a great deal of respect and I enjoy fantastic sex with him in a way that a man of my age simply couldn't provide. Like you, I lost my husband and I miss him but I also know he'd want me to be happy and I am happy. This may not be a relationship in the conventional sense but I'm not doing anything wrong, I'm not hurting anyone and I'm enjoying a sex life while I still can. What's wrong with that?'

I had no reply to make as everything she'd said had been perfectly logical but my brain was still struggling to come to terms with Diane's revelation.

'Wouldn't you still like to be enjoying a sex life?' she pressed.

'Obviously I would,' I admitted, 'but it would feel like cheating on George.'

'Didn't you ever discuss what you'd do if he went first?' she asked.

'Yes, we did,' I replied, 'and he said he wanted me to find someone else but what you're talking about is just sex.'

'I don't see how that makes any difference,' she insisted. 'If you remarried you'd want to be having sex with him and even if you just started dating a man similar to your age, you might want to have sex with him, both of which was apparently fine with George. This would be no different, it's just that the man would be younger and believe me, that's a lot better!'

'How?' I asked, genuinely curious.

'His body's firmer, he has more stamina, he gets an erection again quicker and best of all, his cock is harder,' Diane replied quickly.

'He's harder!' I exclaimed.

Yes. Didn't you notice that as George got older, his cock wouldn't get quite as hard as it once did?' she asked.

'Actually, George couldn't get an erection at all for the last five years of his life but yes, even before that it wasn't as hard as it used to be,' I admitted.

'And didn't you prefer it when his cock was really hard?' she persisted, sensing her advantage.

'Yes,' I sighed, remembering the wonderful sex I enjoyed when I was younger, 'but I can't imagine there are that many young men keen to have sex with a 68 year old woman!'

'You'd be surprised,' she said as she winked at me. 'I can give you a few websites where you're very likely to find a young stud and before you know it, you too can be enjoying a hard cock again.'

I can't do that!' I exclaimed.

'Why not? There's nothing wrong with it Beth and you deserve to have some fun while you can.'

To be honest, I couldn't immediately think of a good reason why not and later that night, I still couldn't. Diane had given me a lot to think about! I was desperately unsure about this as I feared it would in some way dishonour the memory of my husband but I couldn't deny that the thought of enjoying a man again was both thrilling and captivating. For almost a month I kept looking at the list of websites Diane had given me but took no action other than pleasuring myself most nights when I went to bed. As the days and weeks went by I found that I started to think slightly less about George when I masturbated and more about different younger men making love to me and this often made my pussy tingle far more in anticipation and my orgasms would be far more powerful.

The whole thing came to a head one night as I lay in bed and my thoughts turned to an imaginary young man who might be in bed with me. The tingle started again in my pussy and even before I'd touched myself, I'd begun to get wet at the thought. I closed my eyes, opened my legs and imagined he was getting me ready for his young, hard cock. How I had missed feeling a man inside me! My breath started to become shorter and I found myself longing to be penetrated. My hips started to grind into my fingers until I could resist it no longer. 'Let me have your cock,' I sighed as I pushed two fingers inside my soaked pussy and immediately had the biggest orgasm I'd had in two decades.

The next day, I knew what I had to do so straight after giving Max his morning walk, I settled down at my computer to start searching the websites that Diane had given me and it was a rather mixed experience if I'm honest. Some of the sites were far more graphic than I'd been anticipating and I was surprised at the number of men who appeared to be in search of older women. I looked at some of the men's profiles and an awful lot of them seemed to think that the only thing that would interest me was what was between their legs judging by the pictures they were posting. Don't get me wrong, there were some impressive pictures that I liked but it seemed a bit seedy at the same time and I felt that even though this was about sex, I still wanted to feel valued and respected as a woman instead of simply a sex object. It occurred to me that any man who would just post a picture of his cock and nothing else, probably wasn't going to treat me with any sort of respect.

I eventually settled on a website that seemed a little less like a meat market, even though it was ultimately about finding sexual partners. The next step was to post a profile myself and I was very unsure what I should do to ensure success so reluctantly, I had no choice but to phone Diane for some advice. It only took a few rings before she answered.

'Hello Beth, what can I do for you?' she said, presumably knowing who was calling from the display on her phone.

'This is a little awkward,' I began.

'Been thinking about young men?' she asked, laughing.

'Yes, how did you know?' I replied.

'To be honest, I'm surprised it's taken you this long,' she said. 'Have you managed to hook up with anyone yet?'

'No, I've only just started looking at the websites you gave me!' I said, surprised that she would think I'd act so quickly.

'But you are interested in finding a young man to give you some pleasure aren't you,' she said confidently.

I thought about denying it but there seemed little point at this stage, so instead I decided to come clean. 'I suppose so, yes. I found a website that looked OK so I thought I should put a profile on but I wasn't sure what to put and I was certainly unsure about the picture. I really don't want to post a picture of my face and I know I don't want to post any naked pictures of myself so should I just not bother with a picture?'

'Just say you're a vibrant woman who is looking for a gentleman for friendship and fun,' she replied confidently. 'The word "gentleman" will tell them that you want someone who will treat you properly and the word "friendship" tells them that you want something slightly more involved than a quick shag but "fun" makes it clear that this is still about sex. As for the picture, don't show your face or a naked picture, just show one of your cleavage or something like that.'

'Will that be enough to attract one of these younger men?' I asked. I wasn't entirely convinced but it was clear that this wasn't Diane's first fling so I had to trust her experience.

'Believe me Beth,' she laughed, 'it's a buyer's market out there and there are a lot more men looking for older women than the other way around so don't doubt yourself and have some fun.'

I spent a few hours trying on different clothes in the hope that something might inspire me and in that time I probably looked at my own body properly for the first time in years. I stand at 5' 3" so about average for my age and my hair is styled short, as I guess is usual in older women. I don't think I look 68 years old but I'm realistic enough to know that this is largely thanks to hair dye so nobody can see the grey hairs that would no doubt be there if it wasn't for that magical product. My skin inevitably has some sag and wrinkles but I still think that I could pass for about 60 or certainly below 65 as I've looked after myself quite well. I'm a size 16 so hardly slim but my breasts are a good size at 38F and none of my joints have seized up yet so I don't move like I have one foot in the grave either.

I couldn't say I was entirely happy with the way I looked and didn't feel at all comfortable about being naked in front of a younger man but what woman of my age would feel that good about her looks? I tried to take solace from the fact that I still looked pretty good compared to many women my age who looked every one of their years and anyway, if these men were really attracted to older women, they could hardly expect physical perfection! I finally selected a bra I hadn't worn in years as it was quite low cut and although it was now a bit too small, that did at least push my breasts up for an impressive cleavage. On top of that I wore a low cut top before taking a picture of my chest to go on the website.

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byPussymad42© 8 comments/ 32745 views/ 25 favorites

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