September Heat

When my husband of twenty years died of cancer, I was totally devastated. Jeff and I had been a close and loving couple right to the end and his passing away left a huge gap in my life. For a long while, my emotions were shattered and existing from day to day was pure hell. Thank heavens for our daughter, Amanda, who was there when I needed her the most.

It was Amanda, who, when not busy with her own growing family, took the time to be my friend and companion and help me realize that at fifty, I still had a lot more living to do.

Oddly enough it was this very awakening that became my true frustration. After a year of being overwhelmed with grief, I began to sense a deeper, more intimate absence in my life; sex.

Having enjoyed a healthy and vigorous relationship with my husband, it was a cold revelation to find that I missed having a man in my bed. With each passing day, that longing became a very strong physical ache.

Not that I was lacking in would be seducers. Within weeks of reentering the social circuit of friends and past business associates, I was hit on by both of my husband's partners. Both being pot-bellied, balding and very, very married. When I reported this to Amanda she only nodded. "Mom, your still a great looking woman," she explained. "I'm surprised more men haven't come on to you already."

Without sounding too egotistical, I readily admit there is some truth to that. Jeff and I had both been sports minded and we loved to jog, ski and do lots of other demanding exercises. All of which worked to keep my tall, full figure in what was obviously an appealing shape. From long, slender legs, small waste and a full 38D, what I saw in my mirror was very gratifying. Friends said I resembled a mature Sharon Stone, with my green eyes and full lips and a wild mane of silver-gray hair. But being manhandled by drooling, lecherous old duffers wasn't my idea of romance.

Amanda must have sensed my frustration at finding a suitable date and decided to try her hand at match-making. It seemed her husband's boss was a 53 year old ex-marine and recently divorced. She went as far as to have him over for dinner one evening while I was visiting. Butch, as he was called, was physically everything she had related. A tall, muscular giant. He had a handsome, rugged face and a hearty laugh that shook the walls.
When he called the next night and asked me to dinner, I felt like a school girl all over again.

Since laying eyes on his impressive physique, I had begun entertaining wickedly obscene thoughts about how he would look naked. As the fantasies persisted, I found myself acting on impulsive and drove into town to do some last minute lingerie shopping. At a small boutique that specialized in intimate apparel, I purchased an entire new outfit that was every bit as risque as my nasty imagination.

Much to my horror, Butch turned out to be the biggest disappointment I have ever experienced. After a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant, he suggested a well known lounge where we could have a few drinks and get to know each other better. I soon discovered a few drinks to Mr.Macho meant half a dozen doubles in less than an hour. Before I knew it, he was falling down drunk and causing a ruckus. I was never so embarrassed. Then he had the nerve to suggest we retire to his place for a little adult fun. I told him what he could do with his suggestion and left him there.

Back home, stripping for bed, I looked at myself in the mirror. Decked out in that body hugging black lace bustier, garter belt and all. Who was I kidding, I thought sadly. It was time to face the truth. I'd become an old woman and no man was going to come along and sweep me off my feet ever again. The Spring days of my sexual youth were gone forever. Feeling lonelier than ever, I fell on my bed and cried myself to sleep. The next morning, I boxed the outfit and slid it on the top shelf of my bedroom closet. I had no illusions that I would ever need it again.

Still, the fates play by their own time table and I was about to discover that some of the fiercest passions burn not in June but in September.

Active again in my own business and social activities, I put my loneliness aside and went on with a positive attitude. Making the best of things had always been one of my strongest assets.

It was several months later that I attended the wake of some long forgotten second cousin. Those kind of occasions are always depressing, still I felt an obligation to my relatives to attend. After offering my condolences to the immediate family, I circulated among the gathering of familiar faces. Some I had not seen since Jeff's funeral. While I was talking to a woman who had been our neighbor long ago, she turned and waved to someone. I turned to see she was signaling a young man with dark wavy hair and boyish good looks.

"You remember my son, Brian?" she asked as he came over to us.

My mind did some mental gymnastics trying to picture those times long forgotten. Then I was seeing this scrawny, happy little kid playing around in my backyard.

"Brian, this is Mrs.Powell," she said introducing me. "She use to babysit you when we were neighbors back on Greenwood Drive."

Brian took my hand and smiled warmly. He was extremely handsome and there was a gleam in his eyes that recalled the mischievous tyke of old. "Oh, really. Did I give you much grief?"

"As I recall, you were rather a handful."

"I'm told, I still am." He grinned and I found myself enjoying his company a great deal. What a pleasant young man.

Someone walked by and caught his attention and he excused himself from our company. As he walked off, I felt saddened.

Which caught me up short. Later, as I continued to talk with his mother and other ladies present, I happen to look up and spotted him at the other end of the room watching me. Our eyes made contact and I instinctively turned away. My first reaction was that it had been a mere coincidence that we had both looked in the same direction at the same time. Nothing more. Still, after waiting a few more minutes, I once again let my glance roam and there he was again. This time he was by himself near the hall door, openly gazing right at me. Fighting the urge to turn, I returned his stare and he smiled innocently and nodded his head. What the hell was going on?

Seeing that it was getting late, I began to say my farewells and asked the funeral director if he might call me a cab. My own car was in the shop for some minor repairs.

"I was just leaving myself," a recognizable voice said from behind me. It was Brian. "I'd be very happy to give you a lift home," he offered in most charming manner. " It's on my way."

I mumbled some inane words about not wanting to trouble him but he only insisted harder and finally I gave in. He seemed very pleased with my acquiescence and rushed back into the main room to bid his mother and friends good-night. Then he was opening the front door for me and ushering me towards his sedan.

It was a warm fall night, and the air was a cool relief from the confines of the crowded rooms we had just abandoned.

As I slid into the passenger side of his car, I nervously tried to swing my legs up so that my skirt would not rise noticeably. Brian seemed not to notice and soon we were rolling down the main boulevard.

He talked about enjoying his trip back home and seeing the places where he had been raised. Then, quite unexpectedly he asked if I would mind joining him for a late dinner. Apparently he hadn't had anything all day and was naturally hungry. I should have said no right there and then. This was all getting a little too much. Allowing myself to accept the ride was one thing. Now he was clearly trying to extend my company. Which put me at odds with myself. Being flattered on the one hand that this good looking young man would want my companionship and at the same time afraid of where that might lead. Damn, but I was being ridiculous. I was old enough to take care of myself.

"Alright," I agreed, avoiding his smiling face. "I guess I'm a little hungry too."

He took us to a well known Italian eatery on the outskirts of town. Soon we were settled into a candle lit booth enjoying a fine meal along with a robust burgundy wine. As the evening wore on, I became captivated by his easy manners and congenial wit. He made it seem as if we were long time friends and I found it very easy to talk to him.

"You must think me a babbling old maid," I confessed after the waitress brought our coffee and the check.

"I think you are the most fascinating woman I have ever met," he replied, his voice going soft with added emphasis. His hand inched closer to mind on the table and I pulled mine back. Instantly sorry for the act that revealed my vulnerability.

"I'm sorry, Brian. Maybe it's time we left."

There was a hurt look in his eyes and he covered it with another dazzling smile. "Of course. And please, Tracy, you have nothing to be sorry about." For most of the ride home, except to give him directions, I was silent. When he had spoken my name, a strange tingling went through me. No stuffy Mrs.Powell, but Tracy. Tracy, as if we really were friends with no age difference between us. I rubbed my temples wondering if the wine was getting to me. Here I was starting to have romantic feelings about a kid young enough to be my son. It was clearly time for this madness to end.

As he stopped in my driveway, I began to reach for his hand to thank him for the ride and the wonderful dinner. It was going to be a fast goodnight and then I would escape to the safety of my home. My home. The words echoed in my head. Yes, my quiet, empty home.

"Would you like to come in for a nightcap?"

I heard my voice saying those words but my mind reeled in disbelief. How could I have been so bold?

Brian was surprised, but in a very pleasant way. He recovered smoothly. "I would like nothing better. Thank you."

And there it was. In a heartbeat I had invited this man, who was very much a stranger, into my house late at night. I was beginning to feel like a puppet being controlled by some strange, inner demon.

Once inside the living room, I directed him to the sofa and raced to the bar to mix our drinks. It still wasn't too late to salvage this affair. One polite, friendly drink and then he would go. Period. End of Mrs.Powell's wild and risque evening.

Brian took the glass from my hand as I sat with him on the sofa. He took a sip and said the drink was fine. I brought my own to my lips and realized my hand was trembling ever so slightly. I prayed he wouldn't notice.

"This has been a wonderful evening, Brian. I really enjoyed myself. It's been so long ..." The words trailed off into the space between us. Somehow Brian sensed my discomfort and placing his glass on the coffee table, reached over and took mine as well. Then he eased himself closer and kissed me.

Just like that! My eyes were wide as his face drew closer. His own eyes closed as he brought his lips to mine. Then I melted. My heart was beating like a caged animal against my ribs and I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him tighter into the kiss. Knowingly he forced my mouth wide and I breathed his name one last time in a feeble attempt to hold off the tide that was drowning me.

"Brian..please..." Then I was sliding my tongue into his mouth and holding him tighter. Suddenly I felt his left hand on my skirt just above my knees. Quickly he pulled back the cloth and moved his touch across my inner thighs. I opened myself for him and he slid his hand into my crotch. Oh heavens, it was all insane. I had to be dreaming. Then I felt his probing fingers on my panties and knew this was no dream. Delicately at first he rubbed my center, then gradually began to increase the pressure.

My vaginal lips opened to his fondling. I reveled at the feel of the lace against my pussy. Back and forth he moved his fingers and soon my body was rocking wildly. Bracing my feet against the floor, I pushed upward as he rubbed harder and the pleasure rose astronomically. I felt my blood afire and every inch of my body was screaming for release. The orgasm built up at my core and exploded outward, my body jerking frantically with the pure joy it was experiencing. I pulled my head away from his wet mouth and screamed in ecstasy. "Aaghhh."

Brian slipped two fingers passed my panties into my wet cunt. It was heaven. The orgasm refused to subside, carrying me on until I was limp with satisfaction.

Gently, but forcefully, I pushed his hand away and sat up making a vain attempt to fix my dress. Brian touched my cheek and whispered in my ear,"I want you, Tracy. And I think you want me too." I could only nod. I was dazed by what had happened and couldn't think straight.

"Why don't you go put on something comfortable," he suggested and smiled, my cheeks turning a crimson red. Without another word, I got to my feet and went into the bedroom; closing the door behind me.

Hurriedly I stripped and threw my clothes on the floor. I hurried to the closet by my vanity desk and pulled out the box with the lacy underwear. Sitting at the chair, I donned the smoky black stockings, enjoying their sensual sensation as I smoothed them over my long legs. Then I wrapped myself in the tight bustier and fastened the garter snaps to my stocking tops. Next came a pair of black pumps with very high heels. For a moment, standing in front of the mirror, holding the shoes in my hands, I began to have second thoughts.

I glared at my image critically. Who was I kidding? Look at me, an old lady decked out like a cheap hooker. I was making a fool of myself. He would only laugh when he saw me.

"Put on the shoes," Brian said, announcing his presence. I spun about, momentarily surprised.

"What?"

"I said, put them on, Tracy." He was standing by the open door. He had removed his tie and jacket and his shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. "They compliment your outfit."

"Yes", I mumbled. Holding the corner of the desk, I got into the shoes then stood there for his inspection. I felt exposed, spiritually, if not physically, naked. My hands clumsily wringing each other as he stood there studying me. His face was somber, his eyes bearing down on me.

"I look foolish," I blurted.

"NO." The loudness of his voice startled me. He crossed the room and grabbed my arms. I fell back against the wall.

"You are beautiful beyond words," he proclaimed and then kissed me softly. When we broke my breath was heavy. "You are a goddess and I am going to worship you, Tracy. Every single inch of you. With my lips, my hands, my tongue ...all of me."

Once again we clenched, this time it was hard and demanding.

Each of us trying to devour the other with our lips and tongues.

I tried to hold him, but he held me off indicating he was totally in charge.

Brian began exploring my body with his eager hands.

Greedily he ran them over my heavy breasts. Cupping them together, he massaged them. The feeling was marvelous. My nipples were hardening to sharp points under the lace cups that barely concealed them. Seeing my chest heave with excitement, he tugged at the top button and peeled the bustier to reveal them.

"Magnificent," he declared, putting his palms over each of my fat, sensitive tities. He tugged and pulled on them like a little boy with a new toy and the sensations of pleasure shot through with each twist. Finally he brought his head down and clamped his mouth over one of them. I grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him into me.

"Oh, yes, Brian. Do it,"I pleaded shamelessly. "Suck my tits. It feels so good."

Playfully he bit my rigid nipple and the pleasure factor rocketed through me. Was there no end to the sensual exhilaration he could produce in me? Through the haze of rapture, I tried to recall ever feeling so alive. So hot and wanting. My love making with Jeff had been great but this was beyond that. This was the stuff of erotic fantasies. And they were all coming true.

Brian stopped lapping my tits, took hold of my waist and dropped to one knee. Now his head was directly in line with my vagina. Boldly he began caressing my pubic mound with his hands. My body began to shake.

"Left your leg," he said, indicating my left side. I complied and he positioned it over his right shoulder. Then, he put both his palms under my ass cheeks and pulled me to him. His mouth fell on my pussy like a hungry lion and his tongue raked over my tender flesh. A zillion tiny shocks raced across my nervous system and my body shook. Again and again he whipped his hot tongue into my cunt, lapping me up as if I were a succulent meal to be devoured.

Over and over his tongue slapped into my clit until I felt the inner tremors of another orgasm building deep within me. It swelled upward from every nerve in my being, a roaring sea of bliss impossible to contain.

"I'm going to COME!!!" I screamed, digging my fingers into his hair and pushing him deeper.

"EAT ME! EAT MEEEEE!!" I gushed. My climax exploded I felt my warm juices flowing into his waiting mouth.

By now my senses were reeling. Brian sensed my weakness and as he rose to his feet, he twisted about and swept me up in his arms. Resting my head on his chest I started crying.

"Tracy?"

"It's been so long," I explained, lifting my tear stained visage. "So long without a man."

He smiled and kissed my cheek. Effortlessly, as if I were a child, he carried me to my giant king size bed and gently laid me on the it, my back propped against the over stuffed pillows. Then he began stripping out of his clothes. By now I was completely enthralled. Wantonly I played with myself as I watched as he exposed his muscular torso. It was evident by the size and tone of his physique that Brian devoted himself to weight training. He had muscles on his muscles. Then his pants came off and my eyes riveted on his greatest treasure.

His erection was huge. A long, thick, pointing sword all ready to skewer me. I was both scared and aroused. I extended my hands palms out and Brian grinned. He climbed onto the bed, took hold of my legs at the ankles and spread me open. My wet pussy the target of his desire. Smoothly on his knees, he brought himself forward and positioned the head of his massive cock before it. Then he slid his hands down my legs, hooked them under my knees and pulled himself forward. His manhood slammed into me and I went crazy.

The previous delights I had just known were as nothing compared to what his cock was doing to me. In and out he drove it, whipping me to a frenzy of primal gratification I never dreamed possible. And yet part of him was holding back, being considerate of my needs over his own. But he was wrong and I let him know it.

Like a madwoman, I reached up and pulled him head down. Glaring into his eyes, I yelled, "Fuck me, you beautiful bastard! FUCK ME HARD!!"

Brian shoved into me with renewed vigor, releasing my legs so that I could wrap them tightly around his buttocks. The heels of my pumps dug into the back of his thighs and he winced slightly. I regretted the pain for a second until I realized it had only enhanced his performance. Like a cowgirl spurring her wild stallion to greater speed, I jabbed him again. It was wonderful. I dug my nails into his back, scratching him deep as as I screamed with lust.

His body was pounding into mine faster and harder with each thrust until a third orgasm swelled up inside my stomach. This one ruptured through every inch of my flesh setting it afire with pure, all consuming ecstacy.

"AAIEEEE!" I screamed and screamed until my throat was hoarse and my energy at last drained.

Slowly, Brian relaxed over me. Both our bodies were covered with a thin sheen of sweat. Then he moved slightly and I felt his massive cock still rigid inside my cunt. He hadn't come.