The Bench

I was so excited when I moved into my new apartment. I hadn't lived near the water since I was a kid. From my bedroom window, I could literally see the water. It was a small inlet that led the local fishing boats out to the ocean. The scent of high and low tide brought memories of the beach that had been a stone's throw from my house as a kid.

My excitement was so great that I almost didn't sleep at all my first night. By four or five a.m., I was wide awake. I hadn't even had my cup of morning joe. There wasn't a need. Instead of coffee, I stepped out into the brisk fall air. It was a shock to the system, but I jogged lightly to warm up and followed the jogging path around the inlet. The area's lights were not on, and the sun was just beginning to peak on the horizon. I stopped to admire it coming up. There has always been something magical about the sun coming up for me. It makes me feel alive. Honestly, it's quite a turn-on, too.

Halfway around the inlet, there was a wooden park bench. It sat all alone under a willow tree by the water, giving it a secluded view of the water. As I passed the bench, I saw a woman who looked maybe mid-forties sitting there with what looked like a cup of coffee in one hand. I heard a faint buzzing noise that, at first, I thought was the hum of a bad street light. She took a long pull from her coffee as I looked passing by her. A light hum of ecstasy passed her lips.

I jogged pretty fast, so the scene was over rather quickly, and I thought nothing of it. Soon, I was back at my apartment and taking a shower to start my day. It was rather uneventful as I sat through the training for the new job.

That night, I was eager for the smell of the fresh salty air and did another run as I had done in the morning. Again, I made it halfway around and saw the same woman sitting on the bench under the willow tree.

I had thought about her most of the day. Something had been off when I passed her that morning, but I just couldn't put my finger on it. Part of me said to just keep moving, but that nagging part of me said to stop and say, "Hi." After all, I was new to the area and didn't know anyone. I might make a new friend, or she could just be a crazy lady and stab me. One never does know.

Curiosity won out in the end. I stopped like I was catching my breath and drank some water from the bottle I kept on me for the run. The woman looked at me, smiled, and then back at the water. I sat on the far side of the bench away from her and took in the moonlit night sky over the water. It was truly magnificent.

As I sat there, I heard that light hum again. It was louder now that I was sitting there with this woman. I turned to look at her again, and I knew that look on her face. It was purely sexual. That meant the humming was exactly what my brain told me this morning it might be, but I wrote it off as me being silly.

"So, do you sit out here often?" I asked, trying not to show that I knew something was going on.

She bit her lower lip and turned towards me, "Whenever... I can." she said with a bit of struggle. "There is... nothing like... the fresh salt... air."

"I hear you," I chimed. "I haven't lived this close to the water in ages, and I'm trying to take advantage of it."

She returned to looking out at the water with a smile and a nod. Her face looked like she was struggling. I could see her lower lip quivering a little as she sat there. Part of me wanted to leave, but I also wanted to see what she would do if I stayed. She was attractive, a little full-figured, and looked like her bust was on the large size. I always had a weakness for larger women; she fit my type to a T.

I put my arms out, draping them along the top of the bench and stretching them out. I "accidentally" touched her shoulder with the tips of my fingers on one hand. She stiffened and bit her lip, and closed her eyes. I watched what looked like a tiny orgasm wash over her face. It lasted a few seconds, and then she recovered her composure. She reached into the fancy handbag beside her, and the buzzing stopped. Her face was blushed with what looked like embarrassment. I got another smile and nod. She scurried off and across the grass towards a home about four hundred feet from the bench.

I couldn't help but smile. It was kind of hot, which I did not expect when I moved to this neighborhood. Part of me hoped she would come back, but after she left, I only sat a few minutes more, then finished my jog. I need a cold shower after that little adventure. I wondered if she would be there in the morning or if I might have freaked her out.

The next morning, I continued my routine, and to my dismay, she was not there. To be honest, I was heartbroken. I worried I had upset a new neighbor, which could make life a bit weird. Not that using a vibrator in public wasn't odd in itself. I was just kicking myself for that dumb move. What was I thinking? I know exactly what I was thinking. Some hot older lady is sitting on a bench with a vibrator, and if you make a move, maybe she will just fuck you right there on the bench. It was just dumb. The world is not like the porn you imagine in your head.

The rest of my day was what I considered the norm: work and dinner afterward. I considered not going for the evening jog, but I left a change of clothes right by the door. It was too easy not to change and go out. My pacing was improving as I was moving faster than before. My subconscious was in control. I wanted to see if my vibrator friend was there.

As I approached the area again, I saw a person sitting on the bench from a distance away. She was wearing a bright pink outfit that almost glowed. I crossed my fingers as I nearly sprinted.

My vibrator friend had returned. As I approached, she waved to me, and then her hand gestured for me to stop and take a seat. I followed her gestures with a smile as I heard a faint noise again. Well, she was up to her old tricks again. That was a good sign.

"Please join me," she said. "My name is Marissa."

I introduced myself and extended my hand. Marissa politely declined but was still smiling.

"You must be new here," she said. "Almost no one uses this trail anymore."

"Yeah, only moved in a few days ago," I explained.

"And in only a few days, you found a neighbor with a little perversion. I was embarrassed, but you didn't seem upset by what you saw."

"Definitely not," I burst out with haste. "It's not every day a man finds a beautiful woman pleasuring herself on a park bench."

"Beautiful..." she remarked with one eyebrow raised. "We'll see about that."

"Oh really?" I asked.

"Are you hard?" she asked in reply.

"I've been hard since I saw you last night," I said truthfully. "I even had to resort to a cold shower before bed."

"Mmmmm," she purred. "Well then, I want you to pull that cock out while you sit here with me. I want to see it."

I didn't even hesitate for a second. I reached into my running shorts and pulled out my cock. It twitched in the cool night air. Bits of precum had already started forming on the tip.

"Wow," Marissa said, and her hand reached into her bag. The vibrator got louder as she apparently turned it up. My cock grew bigger in response. She noticed, too, if the smirk on her face was to be believed. "I want you to stroke it for me," she directed.

I did as the lady asked and gripped myself with one hand. It ran up and down slowly as I tried to show off its size. I wasn't huge, but I never had any complaints about size. She just stared at it as I tugged on it. It was so hot. All my effort was needed to keep from blowing right there.

We both sat there pleasuring ourselves while watching each other. I could tell from the look on Marissa's face and the quiver of her lip she was getting close. I had seen it the night before and recognized the signs.

"Are you going to cum?" I asked playfully.

"Uh, huh," she moaned.

"Do you want me to cum, too?" I asked.

Uh, huh," she moaned with a glint in her eyes.

"Then don't hold back," I told her. "I've held back since we began. Just tell me when you're ready, and I will show you how much I like what I see."

"Yeah, that's what I want," She said, followed by light moans of pleasure. "I'm going to cum! Do it for me. Show me how big a load you got."

"Oh yeah," I said, going faster. I've built up a huge load."

"Yes, Yes!" We both muttered and came together.

Panting and sitting on the bench, we smiled at each other and the mess we made. I looked at the grass below me, covered in wads of thick white cum. Her crotch looked moist even though she still had her pants on. She reached into her purse, pulled out a tissue, and passed it to me.

"Here, that should help you clean up a bit," Marissa explained.

I thanked her and cleaned myself up.

"I must go now," she told me. "I'm out here most evenings and sometimes in the mornings. Feel free to join me again."

"I will," I said, holding back my enthusiasm. I want to go again, now!

She left, and I returned home to finish my evening routine. Things like that continue like that every day for weeks. I would wave to her if I saw her in the morning and join her every night on the bench. We didn't always cum in unison as we did that first time, but we always left each other's company with a naughty smile. Sometimes, we were just quiet as we pleasured ourselves, and sometimes, she would talk dirty, or I would. It was wild and hot, but we never touched each other or talked about ourselves. It was all animalistic.

Then, one warmer day, things changed. Marrisa patted the spot right next to her, asking me to sit there rather than at the far end of the bench. It was now how our game here had been played. I played along and took a seat beside her.

"Don't touch me," she said sweetly. "Just pull out that marvelous cock and sit back."

I did as she asked and moved my running shorts so it flopped out semi-hard already. She spit in her hand and grabbed it. It wasn't rough, but it was firm. She knew how to hold my cock just the way I liked it. Maybe she figured by how she had been watching me, or perhaps she was just that good with her hands. Either way, I wasn't going to complain as she stroked me slowly. Marissa leaned in with one arm around my shoulder and the other tugging. I wasn't touching her like she asked, but her lips were close enough to kiss.

"I've been watching you for weeks now, and you look at me with such desire," she whispered in my ear. "I haven't had a man look at me like that in years. You've done wonders for my self-esteem. I thought I should pay you back for it."

"Any man who doesn't look at you like that is a damn fool," I said with all the honesty I could muster. "You are a gorgeous woman."

"Oh, you flatterer, you," She said with a cheeky grin. "I bet you say that to all the ladies holding your cock."

"Maybe," I replied. "But it doesn't make it any less true."

Her hand moved faster. A mix of precum and her spit gleaned on my cock as she jerked me off. She had fancy nails painted a sexy red color. I didn't fully understand what it was about the color red that made people boil with desire, but I didn't care about that at that moment. I was just along for the ride. And what a ride it was!

"Mmmm," She moaned in my ear. "Look at that young hard cock. It just grows with every stroke."

I just fought the urge to moan and stared out into the water.

"No, no," she said to me. "Eyes on me."

When I turned to face her in the evening light, I saw a vicious grin and two wide eyes looking back at me. I waited for her to kiss me, but she didn't. Her grin grew wider, and the whiteness of her teeth accentuated the red lipstick she wore. I was hers at that point. I'd become putty in her hands.

"Good boy," she complimented me. "Tonight is your reward, so please don't hold back. I want you to feel good like you have made me feel good."

I just nodded, speechless from the pure pleasure of her hand. Weeks of not touching and just her hand made me feel like a virgin on prom night about to be a minute man. I'd never felt like this before. Words couldn't express how I felt.

"You've been looking at my face," she said, and her eyes moved down so that I could look towards her chest. "No bra, my young friend."

I was mesmerized by a low-cut white t-shirt with two perky nipples taught against the thin fabric. A massive gap of cleavage looked like a black void in the night there before my face. All I wanted to do was bury my face in there and suffocate. The faint aroma of her perfume slowly came to my senses. It had been there before, but now more aware of my surroundings, it amplified.

"Do you want to see them?" she asked. Her face clearly knew my answer.

The free hand she had wrapped around me moved to her front. She pulled down the neck of her shirt and one breast, and then the other popped out into the night air. My head jerked towards them with mouth-watering need. The scolding look on Marissa told me to stop.

"Don't be naughty," she teased. "I told you no touching."

"Y...ee...ss Ma'am," I squeaked out.

Her smile returned. "Good boy," she replied. "I see you like the view. Do you know what I'd like to see? I'd like to see my good boy cum for me. Can you do that?"

I was almost there and again could only nod. This seemed to amuse Marissa to no end.

"You just tell me when you're about to cum for me. I have a treat for you," she explained. "Oh, look at you. That look on your face is nothing but pure pleasure. Come on. Are you going to cum for me, or are you going to leave a lady waiting all night?"

"Don't stop!" I exclaimed louder than planned. "I'm going to blow!"

She dropped to her knees before me and never stopped moving her hand. I was aimed right are her tits as I came so hard it made my balls hurt. Several huge blasts of cum laid on her breasts, nipples, and in between. The look on Marissa's face was an absolute delight. Eagerly, she began scooping the white sticky mess and gobbling it down.

"Yum!" she said with an enthusiasm I had never seen on her before. "I haven't tasted cum in what feels like forever. You had so much!"

I gave her a hand and pulled her up to her feet. "Well, after weeks of teasing, what did you expect? I haven't been that built up in... well, ever."

I leaned in to try kissing her. I knew I shouldn't, but after what she had just done, I wasn't thinking. The flinch on her face was painful to my core.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"That's okay," she told me. "I understand. I should go now. It's getting late. I hope to see you again soon."

"Me too," I admitted.

She ran off faster than she usually did after our little bench adventures. I was kicking myself so hard. I didn't know what to do, so I went home and slept off my feelings. It wasn't easy. I was tossing and turning all night. I felt like a damn fool.

Come morning, I didn't see Marissa and shrugged it off. She was still not there that night, and I knew my fears were coming true. I wanted more of her, to taste her, feel her, and smell her. It was killing me, knowing I had done something to hurt her likely.

The next few nights were all the same. No, Marissa, not even a sign. My brain was in turmoil, and I kept telling myself to get over it. She was just some random lady I found on a bench playing with herself. I didn't know anything about her and should just move on. It didn't work, however. I still wanted to see her, talk to her, and at least apologize.

I ran the path every night for a month, and no sign. I knew her direction when she left, but a dozen homes were in that direction. I didn't feel comfortable knocking on doors to find her, and she was already upset. I didn't want to make it worse.

I was about to change my running path. Something about the smell of the salt water was giving me a bad taste in my mouth. My fond memories of it were tarnished. At the last minute, I said fuck it. Just one more run.

I was glad I did. When I got closer to the bench again, Marissa was sitting there. She looked upset and had been crying, and her makeup was running. I stopped but sat at the other end of the bench to make sure she knew I understood I had done something to upset her.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry," I told her. "I shouldn't..."

She held up a hand, indicating that I should stop. "Don't. It's okay. I'm not upset with you. I'm upset with myself."

"I'd like to understand," I said.

"Okay, let me explain," she began. "I lost my husband last year."

"I'm sorry," I told her.

"No, please don't interrupt me," she said with sadness in her eyes. "Let me finish. This isn't easy for me to explain.

My husband developed Huntington's shortly after we were married. Life expectancy, at best, is close to twenty years. He made it fifteen, but the last few were absolute hell. It's a horrible disease, and seeing him suffer so much was painful. Besides work, my only free or alone time was coming out to this bench in the morning to have my coffee and in the evenings after I helped him get into bed. It was tough on me."

She gestured to her full-figure frame. "I let myself go under the stress. I had so many responsibilities, and the pressure kept mounting. I didn't want to tell my husband everything I was going through. He had his own issues that were far more dire than mine. I didn't want his last thoughts to be worrying about me.

I couldn't get off around my husband anymore. The disease was so hard on him that our sex life completely vanished. I tried using my vibrator in the house, but I felt guilty. Ultimately, I would hide it in my purse and use it while I sat on this bench in the mornings or evenings. It became an everyday routine.

When he died last year, I still couldn't bring myself to get off in the house. I had been avoiding it for so long that I continued my routine. It was dumb. I was ashamed.

I tried dating because some co-workers tried fixing me up, but they never worked out. They'd try to hold my hand, touch me, or, god forbid, kiss me. I'd lose it and usually bail on the date. I made quite a fool of myself. Several people were mad at me. They don't fully understand what it is like to lose someone like I did.

When you found me out here that night, you sat down; it was the anniversary of my husband's death. I didn't know what to do. I almost ran away. When you saw what I was doing and just played along, I felt sexy for the first time in years. I felt like climbing onto you and riding you until my body gave out. Part of me was still grieving, though. When another man touches me, I still cry, run, or fight.

You, however, just sat with me here night after night, looking at me like a sexual being. Both of us getting off together. You never moved closer or tried to take advantage. You never asked questions, but I knew you must have wanted to ask. It took weeks, but I finally worked up the nerve to do what we had done the last time. It was almost overwhelming to me. I already felt guilty, and then you wanted to kiss me. I panicked, and I owe you an apology. You didn't know any of this. How could you? We've barely said much to each other except a few dirty words."

"Wow," I said, taken back by her story. It was more than I expected, but it all made sense. "Thank you for sharing with me."

"I'll understand if you want to run away from this hot mess," she joked with the first smile I'd seen since sitting down.

"I'm not running," I admitted. "You look like you need a hug, but I don't want to do that if it upsets you."

"I'd really like that," Marissa admitted as several tears formed in her eyes.

I slid down the bench and wrapped my arms around her. We stayed like that for what felt like hours--no words, just holding each other. I couldn't fathom all she had been through; I don't know if anyone could. If my holding her could help, then that's what I would do.